Let the Shows begin

Well, with a little 'tweaking' I have changed my blog so that anyone can reply to it. Please let me know if this is not working or you have problems with it. I can still delete any reply, if I so want so be warned. Hah!

On the home front, I have a show coming up this next weekend at Ft. Bliss. With all the new troops they are moving in, it could be a fairly good show. Normally, this is just a venue I do because I am more than ready to get on the tent circuit again after a long break. It is never a biggie, or hasn't been but just a good time to meet the gypsies again and turn over some of my 'leavings' from the last year. Lots of low end items and none of my high class stuff are the order for this show.

My weekend was very quiet, if you can call Nates' TV blaring 'quiet'. (That boy is nearly deef...my throat chakra is very well developed. heh.) Anyway, Cecil was in Ruidoso to visit with John and check on the Far Out House, our little getaway in the mountains that my dear folks gifted me with. They had about 6 to 8 inches of snow in the village and a bunch more on Sierra Blanca. I know that a dead pine had fallen in our yard, barely missing the back part of our shack. He was going to take care of that but the snow gave him an out. (The folks cabin next door is for sale again. I can hardly believe what it is on the market for now.) All the snow and rain has been great for the flora and fauna and the fire danger this year should be low. The creek behind the cabin is full and the Rio Riodoso has a good amount of water in it. Cecil says he is having a good time, I'm sure he is as it is always good to get away for a spell.

Watched NASCAR on Sunday...while making some new beaded beads. Unfortunately my boy Dale Jr. had a few problems with tires but I had no problem with the beads. They turned out just great. Now I just need to put them, along with my new copper enameled ones together for the show next month in San Antonio. I have dreams of a new Cowgirl necklace too, with charms and some of the new beads. The studio is a mess right now as I have still not gotten everything organized since the Tucson bead show but that is next on the list. Since we have started going through all of Bernie's stuff (that's my Mother in Law who died and left us a ton of you name it, we found it) the studio is suffering. I would show you pictures, but it is embarrassing. Hah! Instead, I will show you a picture of something I made at the end of last year:



Lookingglasses Necklace, crystal, czech glass, art by Cecil B. Lee

Goodbye Gonzo

(Note to Mom...Don't read this, you're not gonna like it...Or maybe?)

I spent the long weekend in Ruidoso and surrounding areas and was all set to write about my blissful retreat. Then I find out Hunter S. Thompson blew his brains out while I was eating a vegi-burger with a full load of fries at the Western Cafe in Cloudcroft, New Mexico. What??? Leon (Jan's pard) told us after we drove up to her house to unload. What??? HST took the easy way out, so it seems...Or was it?

The good/bad Doctor of gonzo journalism who took to the campaign trail hunting Tricky Dicks and Hump Humphries. I read all about it in the Rolling Stone with Ralph Steadmans' art spattered across the pages like a bad suicide. HST as we call him, as if we knew him, was my first foray into politics. I couldn't hardly wait for the next issue, next episode in this slice and dice literary voice of reason or unreason. It was the season of Patty Hearst and the SLA, marches in the streets about a war over there that had no meaning. The tube was filled with dead bodies, boys that could barely shave fighting for who knows what. HST was on, dead on. He was a madman with a pen, over the top, excess, excessively.

"They" say he waited until his wife left the house. O goody...That was nice of him. "They" say he was in chronic pain, every day, pain. O yeah? Well, I and a few that I love dearly are in pain, every day, pain and yet we hang on...Stay here. Yeah, I know, we all gotta die of something but taking your life? What??? I'd like to go out like Dale Earnhardt, doing what I love as fast as I can on the last lap of the Daytona 500. I mean, to me gun control is knowing where you are aiming...

What can I say, what more can I say? I loved the way he wrote. I have read him and admired him greatly for his abilities, his cutting to the quick style. But I think he is a chickenshit for leaving his body parts scattered about and his loved ones to pick up his pieces. His son found his body...Now isn't that sweet?


"Presidential politics is a vicious business, even for rich white men, and anybody who gets into it should be prepared to grapple with the meanest of the mean. The White House has never been seized by timid warriors. There are no rules, and the roadside is littered with wreckage. That is why they call it the passing lane. Just ask any candidate who ever ran against George Bush -- Al Gore, Ann Richards, John McCain -- all of them ambushed and vanquished by lies and dirty tricks. And all of them still whining about it." Hunter S. Thompson, 2004

Geez, I'm mad at you Hunter. Not for the 'fringy' way you wrote, not for the drugs, not for the silly fool you were but...for...taking the easy way out. He wrote that piece above last year, he could still write, he could still write! Damn.



I hope you rest in peace (finally) Hunter and say hello to Tricky Dicky for me...

SooZen

Dawg Daze

It is my habit of late to arise before dawn, roll a smoke (I am trying to quit but keep falling off the wagon so the harder I make it on myself, the better), go outside with the dogs and think about what it is I want to write that day...The dogs are always good company, the best sometimes...

Now, I know this is gonna be long, it's about dawgs so settle in and give it a chance, especially if you have a dog or have had a dog in your life

I started thinking about dog stories yesterday. The day was spent with my friend and Posse member Karen. She loooves dogs! She has a blue tick hound, a papillion that was inherited from her daughter and a mixed breed that is the son of Genii, the papillion. Cactus (I love that name, I had a stick horse as a child by that name. We horsey girls that didn't have horseys at the time, had stick horses)...Where was I? O yeah...Cactus is a cool dude kinda dog with shepherd, papillion and 'who knows' mixed in. He looks something like a coyote but with a grizzled blue and tan coat. Whiz or Whizzer, the blue tick, is Karens' old dog, nearly blind, deaf but still lifted into the car for the evening ride for sunsets and ice cream.

I can remember and have had many dogs in my life: Cinder, Draggin'(Drag), Gertie, Zacharia (Zack, Zacko), Andrew (Mandrew, Drew, Droopy), Annie (Annie Fannie, Annie Girrll) and Yogi (Yog, Yoggie Doggie, Nate calls him Doggie Doggie or Scooby Doo). Some of these canines have been GREAT, Near GREAT, or just Wanna be GREATS.

The only thing I remember about Cinder was her death. I was quite small then and she was killed by car in front of our house on Timberwolf Street. The death itself is quit vivid in my mind although I don't think Cinder was one of the GREATS.

Drag was. She was the smartest dog I have ever known in my life...Some have come close, but none was as GREAT as Draggin'.

My grandfather actually found Drag hanging about our yard (no fences there). I should say 'slinking' about our yard as she was obviously abused and skinny and lost or escaped, most likely. Granddaddy (on my Momma's side, talked to all animals too and would be known as a horse whisperer nowadays) would sit out in the yard, toss her bits of food for she would not come close...He would do this for hours, talking to her in his dog reassuring voice. He and my Mom musta realized she was a GREAT because they spent long hours teaching her to trust again. She came by her name honestly, she came draggin' into our lives and stayed until a very old girl...Her death was more peaceful than Cinders.

Drag loved to go fishing with my brother, go riding horseback riding with us, running along side, ignoring all other dogs, her tongue hanging out about a foot trying to keep up with our wild forays She went just about everywhere the family went. Always getting car sick but man, if you opened the car door or started packing bags she was into the car and you had to drag Drag out! Hah! She looked like Ole' Yeller (that movie still makes me cry), mostly yella lab, she loved water and would go swimming in the Franklin Canal behind our first place, cutting her feet to bits on broken bottles but she loved to swim! She liked cats, bunnies (she would steal baby bunnies from next door and play gently with them)and kids, but had no truck with birds...She was a bird dog and killed a few of the neighbors chickens. Granddad tied a dead chicken to her neck once, that chicken rotted there and that was the last of her chicken killing days. Her experiences with skunks are family legends.

Once she was left out in the desert by us accidentally after we had gone to go riding at our stable. When we arrived home my Mom was furious at the perpetrators. "Where's Drag?" she asked when we returned. Whooowee! Was she pissed! We drove back out there in the dark, hoping against hope that she would be found...There she sat in the middle of the dirt road, he eyes glowing in the dark, waiting for us to return. Drag hated to be locked up...(separation anxiety at its worst). You couldn't leave her alone in the house, she would claw the door until she was bloody, if you didn't lock the door good, she would open the door by the doorknob and escape. My Mom and Dad probably still have the dented and toothmarked doorknob my Dad mounted on a plaque for my Mom. She was the best of friends, never knew a leash, a free spirit who had a definite personality and a big heart...Drag was a GREAT. I could tell a hundred more tales about Drag, but I won't, I need to get to the other dogs in my life.

Gertie was a short-timer, a dachshund Cecil found wandering about lost, she loved kids, I mean she loved kids with a love that was blinding. We had no kids at the time so she escaped, probably following some school kid home and having a kid for the rest of her life, at least I hope so. She wouldn't have been a GREAT anyway, she was just sweet.

Zacharia (named after the Country Joe cowboy movie of the same name)was another of the GREATS. We picked the litter for this boy...He was the biggest of the lot and had a mischievous heart and a sense of humor to boot. Part Australian Shepherd and part 'fence-jumper', he came and stayed until his sad death. Zach was really my first child, he'd sit in my lap as a puppy and 'goffer' a ride, looking out the window, happy as a clam. When my first child was born, that was his child and he watched Noah like a hawk. He was a shepherd after all and shepherd Noah he did. Once, the boy was in the back yard with Zack (fenced, this time) and I was in the house for the phone had rang. Noah, dressed only in a diaper and tennis shoes and only two at the time, climbed the fence and took off for a walk...I returned to find dog and boy gone! I was frantic, I called the police, I called a local talk show on the radio, I called and called and called for Zack and Noah and looked high and low. Some lady heard my plea on the radio and called the police saying she had found a baby walking down the street with a large black and white dog. Noah told the lady, "I'm thirsty!" and she quickly took him in but was worried about the dog who wouldn't leave her porch, laying down right outside her doorway...Zacko (as Noah called him) wouldn't budge as long as his 'child' was in that strange house. I could also tell a hundred tales about this GREAT creature. Just thinking about him brings a tear to my eye and talking about the way he died is still hard for me, so I won't. For a long time before and after his death, we saw black and white progeny all around our neighborhood as Zach was a real ladies' man. He hated other males and would fight them even if they were bigger. Alpha dude all the way. Hah!

Andrew or Mandrew as my Nate called him was the most worthless piece of dogflesh you could ever meet and the only dog I ever paid for. He cost me $100 bucks and that was like throwing money into a stiff breeze. His only saving grace was that Nate loved him, he was Nate's dog and either snapped, bit, or growled at everyone else, including me and Cecil. He never ever snapped or bit Nate and Nate would run up to him, grab him by the neck and hug him. No one else ever dared do that to Droopy, he would getcha! He was part Cocker and part Bassett Hound, Cecil called him a 'cockasset' heh. He loved Annie Fannie, our rescue dog, also and always tried to love her good but he was not smart enough to know where the business end of Annie was. Poor girl had a messy face and I will leave it at that... Drew died of cancer, in the yard he so loved with me there brushing ants off of him and keeping watch with Annie. Cecil and I cried over that worthless dog when he died more than any other for the only time we could even pick him up is when we laid him to rest.

Annie or Annie Fannie is my girl and Cecil is her GOD. He found her curled up on a rag in the desert on his way to work one morning. Something about the look in her eyes made him stop his car, back up and invite her in which she did and gladly. She was soooo skinny, her hips were bruised and sore from being thrown out of a truck probably, she was starving for a home and Cecil has a soft spot for doggies. She used to tell me 15 or 20 minutes ahead of time when he would arrive home, she sure couldn't have heard his car that far away but she could read his mind. Annie is part Australian Shepherd and part Chow for she has that black tongue, in fact Annie is an all black girl and I tend to step on her in the dark. She's fearful of thunder and loud noises, gets carsick when you are driving 'away' from her home...she is my velcro dog and no one will drag her away again. She is also a chow hound, big as a blimp and getting arthritis in her legs and shoulders but still plays with Yogi, in a very dignified way. She never liked doggie toys or playing fetch or any doggie past-times, always snorting at dogs who do. She spent a week with me alone in Ruidoso at my little shack there and other than the thunder and me kicking her the heck outta my bed one night, we had a companionable time. Annie is not a GREAT, but nearly so...

Yogi is the dog that Cecil shouldn't have come home with but dogs pick us, we do not pick them. He was but a baby, a victim of the gulf war so to speak. His owners where both young and in the military. Cecil was doing a moving survey (his previous job) at this young soldiers house. The boy had a sad tale of his wife flipping out and in the hospital, he being redeployed and having two puppies in the back yard. "Please Sir", he asked, "don't you want a dog?" "NO!" replied Cec, "My wife would kill me if I brought home something else to take care of." I had threatened him a few times, I guess. Hah! Anyways, the boy offered Cecil twenty bucks to take a dog. Cecil went out in the yard to have a look and there was this little, tiny, sweet faced boxer mix (supposedly all boxer). "Keep your money son, I'll take that one but I hope you know my wife is not gonna like this," he grinned. I was away in Ruidoso at the time, Cecil called and said he had a new puppy (a puppy!!! like baby...poop!). What could I do, it was too late and Yogi came into our lives.

We looove Yogi! Annie mothered him, Nate loves him and so do we. He is a GREAT dog!!! Trouble with him is if he could flip flapjacks, he would. Too clever, too smart with a big assed grin on his face and sure to be a GREAT of the GREATs in the annuals of GREAT dogs. (By the way, he is as big as a pony now...serves us right!) His tail, never docked and always sweeping or banging into something is like Drag's, always in trouble. He's huge and sometimes walks like John Wayne (it may have something to do with the tail thingee) kinda sideways in the back, he knocks on the window outside (Knocks! not scratches) when he wants in. He sleeps in the big red chair next to our bed curled up like a donut. The chair has become too small for him so he gets up and down all night long to stretch his long legs but he loves that chair! He is a people dog and likes all our friends. Dear friend John in Ruidoso says he will take him anytime we want to relinquish him and he already has a GREAT dog Leila, but it is a done deal. He will live here and die here with us because he is a GREAT.

Hah! Thanks for sticking it out all the way through. Was that GREAT or what?

SooZen



Picture of the Lees circa 1975 or '76, Cecil, SooZen, Noah and Zacko by Jim Mulhauser.

Our Real Treasures

Those of you that know me well know that I am an environmentalist...yeah, I have been know to hug an old tree or two. I have supported many environmental causes such as Greenpeace, World Wildlife Federation, Sierra Club, Audubon Society and National Humane Society. I am the environmental writer/contributor to a local rag hence the following rant.

I come by my love of nature naturally (heh). My mother is a nature lover, she talks to the animals, loves trees and flowers. Raccoons would flock to her door, birds would follow her on her walks, abandoned dogs were like her kids. Growing up my brother and I were allowed (unlike many kids we knew) to have all kinds of creatures in the house and yard. We were also required to take care of them and that teaches children great lessons in life. Alan (my bro) and I had horses, gerbils, rats, various reptiles, hamsters, squirrels, chickens, rabbits, dogs, cats, fish, bugs...hey, we ran the gamut. All the time my mother was tolerant of this managerie. We learned about birth, sex, death and most of all, caring and kindness for another creature. (Bless my mother for passing her love of all of the denizens of the planet on to me. I owe her greatly for this. Thanks MOM!) Also, anyone that knows me, knows too that I am a 'horsey girl', always have been, always will be. Please, read on...

Anyway, the reason for this blog is the situation concerning the wild horse and Mr. President's efforts to repeal the long and hard fought for protections of same. First he goes after the old growth forests and now he wants to re-instate the slaughter of the wild horse. Now granted, wild horses are not native species but they have reverted back to the wild style and are a symbol of the fast disappearing wildness of the west. Horses are very sensitive creatures, they have language, customs, family values (yes, they are family type creatures too!) and they have suffered and loved us human types to our advantage. How should we pay them back? This action on the part of the current administration is certainly not the way.

One of the reasons given and justifying these actions other than the fact that McDonalds or Burger King might suffer is that the horses to be culled are too old or stallions or some such nonsense. (And anyway, the ranchers are more in danger of Bush's letting the government drill on their lands, without their say so, for methane than wild horses grazing.) Now this concept of culling is pure D bull, bunk, balooney! Any horse can be gentled IF you can talk horse... This attitude that they are a valuable commodity, hence slaughter them is...is...well, it burns my noodle when I think about it. Cows are in abundance (and I am not saying you shouldn't kill a cow and eat him although we sure are far removed from what we slaughter) so use what is already on the plate. All of the creatures on this planet eat or are eaten but there is no reason to catch wild horses and make dog food out of them or send them to Japan for someone's 'bone appitight' (we into colloquialisms here, heh.)

There is so little left on our planet that is wild and untouched and the way we are going, our grandchilden and grandchildren's children will never know the beauty of the wild spaces if we don't care. Please care and write your legislators about this issue. You can find out more at this site: http://www.wildhorserescue.org/bill.htm

Take the time and take some action.

Thanks and Peace.

From Here to Forever...

Yes...I know. It has been a long time since I have written anything but I promise you, I haven't been idle. I have a whole list of things I have been doing including being depressed, being creative, being sick (part of the reason for the depression), being gone and just plain old "being" avoiding writing for awhile. I needed the retreat to refresh and renew myself and to escape the trap of being redundant and HoHum (although, there is nothing wrong with Hummin'...it's the wHOa part that gets you everytime, if you catch my drift pardner.)

Anyway, I digress (a specialty of mine)...and I will just jump onto the stuff I have been doing and skip the nasty, sick stuff including the depression. That never lasts anyway and just an excuse for being down and resting my bones. Besides, I am finally learning to trust in the universe that everything will turn out as it should...I am a slow learner when it comes to myself and I am sure that will continue until the day I die for none of us should ever stop learning.

My beady buddy Jan and I just returned from the Gem and Mineral Show in Tucson. Now, I want you to understand...This is an AWESOME event. Within the Gem and Mineral Show are five, yes, I said five separate bead shows. You can find anything in Tucson in February from geodes the size of a VW van to the fossilized head of a velociorapter. Folks come from far and near; India, Australia, China, Sweden...everywhere in world you can imagine, just to buy and sell the jewels of the earth and even the universe. There is a whole show just for meteorites!

Being that my finances are very limited right now, I skipped all the foufou and falderah and went straight for the beading events and bead artists that gather in Tucson to show off and sell their creations. I had a mission, a quest, and when you are surrounded by such bounty, such beauty, is it extremely difficult not to be swayed or tempted for a bobble or a bargain. Jan and I go to Tucson to buy materials for the entire year or even two years. I needed, yea, wanted glass beads from a bead artist from Rhode Island by the name of David Christiansen. He was part of my quest and the moment we arrived (it is about a four hour drive from Phar Lepht) and checked into our room we headed out again to the location near the Tucson airport where Dave was supposed to be. He was right there where he was listed in the back-breaking catalog that is in every hotel and tourista location that lists all the shows and vendors. Fortunately, this big ass catalog even provides maps so there was little chance of us getting lost (although we did manage to get waylaid occasionally.) David makes what is known in the trade as furnace glass or art glass. His is the best and only the best for will do when you put your heart and soul into what you create. I spent a good two hours going through his beads, all the colors, the shapes, the beautiful new pendants he has made until I had about two pounds of his art in my backpack. If someone had hefted my bag and asked, "What's in here, rocks?" I would have to say, "Yeah!" We took a quick perusal of the rest of that show where Jan found some beautiful Swarovski crystal from Austria and then on to another show. We did this from Wednesday afternoon until Friday evening...going from show to show (me trying to stay focused and within my meager budget and Jan impulsively flitting from flower to flower.)

We had a great, grand time eating at a favorite natural foods restaurant, bending over bead tables until our backs were aching and opening a bottle of wine at the end of long days in our crummy room where the prices were jacked because of the shows. I bought silver spacers, silver cones, silver beads made in India and Bali, silver, silver, silver and managed to keep from buying all the amazing and beautiful art beads that took my breath away but were priced out of my range. I am sure I left my drool on them though... I did cop a few little artists beads to intersperse in my own creations, besides, I am making my own beads now (that's another story kiddies!) I was very glad to talk to these artists who generously shared techniques and tips which I could bring home to my own studio. I found out how to etch copper with a solution from Radio Shack that is for circuit boards, dental tools make great bead clay molding artifacts and on and on...I really got pumped and am anxious to put some of these materials and knowledge to work. (So if I disappear again, you will know why.)

Another item in my quest were the tiny seed beads made in Japan that are exactly triangular shaped. They are what I make my peyote stitch beads and bracelets from and fortunately the Universe steered me to the right place as those beads are extremely difficult to find. I even found a show where a lady was demonstrating their use and gave me three free tubes of the little gems and a "how to" book to boot! Oh, I was so very lucky. Hah!

Beads are what we go for, beads are what we crave, need, and yes, desire. A beader never has enough beads for there is no such thing but let me tell you, bead magazines and periodicals are almost just as valuable (and expensive). Tucson had bead mags everywhere and for FREE too! I grabbed copies of Ornament (my favorite), Bead & Button, Simply Beads, Lapidary Journal Annual Bead Issue, Belle Amour, Expressions...Man! I had enough for a library and FREE! (Don't you love it when someone gives you something free that inspires creativity in you!?) The bead artists were also giving away postcards of their bead art and if you are on my mailing list, keep and eye out...

Enough about the Bead shows and Tucson already! I am making my own beads now out of copper tubing (plumbing supply and home improvement stores) and enamel with a process that doesn't use a torch or anything that will fall into my lap or burn down the house. I am still experimenting so I have nothing to show you but I did take a sample with me to Tucson and got some positive feedback (and tips!) More to come on this when I have put it all together.

Visualize Peace and while you are at it, take a look at some of the stuff I made while I was sick in bed (post Tucson). Tell me what you think either by email or here. I love, want and need to hear from friends and family and will promise to get back to you. All of these bracelets (along with all of the jewelry I post here) are for sale to someone that will love them so keep that in mind too so I can afford to go to Tucson again. Hah!

SooZen

"Dragonflies" Peyote stitch with triangles, drops and vintage button



"Falling Leaves" Peyote stitch with triangles, drops, copper button



"Chakra" Peyote stitch with triangles, lentil drops and Krishna button