Barefoot Heathen

Liberty in Low Light

2011-09-11T07:55:00.000-07:00

This past week I have been subjected to stories and images which have dug into scars, designed specifically to tear them open, to make them fresh, to make them worse.

These stories and images aren't designed to heal, rather they are designed to make their indelible mark on the psyche of anyone within their reach. A media storm endeavoring to keep the machine in motion by preying on empathy.

Call me heartless, call me a bad American, I don't care. Our liberties have been consistently trampled on for ten years, culminating in a decaversary which has made the news media slobber all over every one of us.

You may fall for it, you may fall in line to pay your respects to the traveling chunks of wreckage, buy the books, gobble up the coverage, and, quite possibly, you may have your identity as a global citizen drawn on a backdrop of two iconic buildings, photographed with the rising sun, creating a religiously enticing image. Add an eagle and a flag, and you have an industry of bumperstickers, memorial flags and yellow ribbons.

I can't take it anymore. I am sickened by it.

A beam from the World Trade Center and a chunk of stone from the Pentagon came touring to my area this week. Of course, the news was there. Also, there was a line of people there to view these bits of wreckage. When the news reported this, several images and words disgusted me beyond anything I have seen or heard lately.

One was a woman grasping the wrist of the very small child she was holding in her arms, and making that child touch and stroke the chunk of concrete as it were a holy relic. She was speaking to the child as she did it. I have no idea what she was saying, as it was just a backdrop to the reporter's story. The image, I suppose was included to pull at someone's sense of loss. After that was a man stroking and patting the steel beam pulled from the tower's wreckage. I had to shake my head at the utter meaninglessness of the actions.

As I was digesting these images, the story went to an interview of a woman and her child. This child, as the newsperson reported, is officially the youngest survivor of the attacks. He proudly declared that he is only "alive today because god has a special purpose for me".

My heart and stomach fell to my feet. I know an adult, most likely his mother, has told him this all of his life. But that did not stop the bilious feeling I had toward that child at that moment. How utterly selfish for anyone to believe such rubbish in the wake of nearly 3000 deaths that day, and the thousands of other lives which have been lost fighting over the attacks.

Did those people not have a purpose? I think the children, wives, husbands, parents, and friends of all those lost on that day, and every day since would disagree. Was the only purpose in these poor dead people's lives to make the rest of us feel lucky? Was the only purpose in their deaths to fuel the machine?

I don't know, right now I don't know much except I am sick from all of this. I am sick of the media leading us down these paths, telling us how we should feel, asking the victims families how they feel just to make a story. Just as sick as the day I walked through Lower Manhattan and was assailed by a man trying to sell me a "Ground Zero Guide" for two bucks. There was another man on the corner across the street doing the same. Sick, I tell you.

I'm sick of the machine that makes money off of this terrible day, while spending tax dollars feeding itself, and creating images to make Americans fall in line, to create patriotism, and to bring fresh tears to the cheeks of people who are absolutely tired of cryng.

I created a few images, last year, of my days in New York. You see, though I am D.C. born, though I have been raised nearly exclusively on Army bases around the world, though I now live in a deep Dismal Swamp, New York has been my city. I love New York. I have spun dizzily while looking up between those two iconic towers, I have walked the streets and absorbed the essence of the city. I feel the loss.

I don't need to be reminded in the name of Liberty. Please, have mercy.

'Liberty in Low Light' painting by Darla Vaughan

TwittaBomb

2011-08-04T07:22:00.000-07:00

I had to become a landlubber for a while, then once I had the ability, I decided to surf again... I tossed my keyboard in and started paddling with the free joyfulness of a body who has been denied her fiber-optic ocean for too long.

Quickly, however, it became clear, that one of my favorite wave riding coves, a little lagoon I discovered and named the DarlaV, southward on the Great Twitter Coast had been converted into a tourist trap... and it was all my fault!

When I had started surfing there in that pristine and still lagoon, I thought wouldn't it be great to invite some like-minded people to my fairly large and empty swampy lagoon, so we could surf and share and exchange ideas together.

Damn fine idea! so I started searching... Lo! and Behold the amount of people who thought a lot like me. Atheists and artists and writers and weirdos and strangers and wildmen of the night and day dreamers in the sand.

I followed and was followed...
Look at all the people, plenty of room for them, too. So many interesting people with day to day bits that remind me of myself... so many who dedicate their time to bringing me the links that tell me who's beating down liberals or atheists. Links showing me artworks for sale and books and blogs of interest.

Ahh, look at them all, so many more came and tried to come in... Some weren't real and got real spammy and were turned away instantly (don't let the door hit ya)..
Many were people that found me in searches and if they met the criteria, pro-atheism, artsy, liberal with a GOP aversion, well... they made their way in.

I enjoyed surfing around with everyone, even if sometimes it was a little overwhelming when all I wanted to do was read a little good morning chatter with the day to day bits people and see what's new.

Then it happened

My life got turned upside down when a friend-cum-landlady turned on me and I had to pull up roots, decided to take a wild jump, and landed in my eden.

In the process, as I have blabbed about via text message to the cove on Twitter Coast many, many times... I didn't have a way to get my keyboard down the pipeline.

Och... then I couldn't vet new surfers properly. I would take a few minutes to open the gate and let em all in.

And then... it happened. I mainlined for the first time from my sublime and peaceful eden. I paddled in on my keyboard wearing my surfing outfit of a halfslip and wifebeater tee, only to find a fucking resort strip in my cove.

Robotic people furiously tweeting links to everything under every rock, leaf and moon! The day to day bits gone.

Atheists doing nothing all day but dog religion to the point of obsession so much so that it makes the whole idea of being without god a moot point. no self reflection on an unwasted life.

Writers who say they are writing, but all day tweeting links to 'How to be a better writer' instead, or just promoting their book with no reflection on daily writing life.

Political junkies who are so angry at the other side, they don't realize they are part of the problem when they don't know the word compromise and talks constantly demeans the other side for demeaning them first. waaaa. Buying into the scare tactics and spreading it like dead wood spreads a wildfire at the slightest breeze.

Blah, blah, blah... It was dark, and cranky and furious and inhuman... just as bad as what they are railing against.

I love my tweeps I have come to know through the day to day bits, the burnt toast and bike rides, my favorites are when they can sum up exactly how they feel about a any hot subject or news catastrophe with one or five well thought out tweets... in their own words. I think those opinions are the ones that hold the most weight with me.

So I took out my grenade harpoon, and started taking out all those impersonal link tweet robo meme surfers. I kept them in a small bar and grill down the coastline called The Lists and Search Club.

So far I have cut 300 with the grenades... now I'm down to trolling, one by one to see if they have what it takes...

Originality, the day to day bits, intelligence and humor. Why am I even telling you this? Why don't I just do it and do it quietly? Because...I really think people need to chill the fuck out.

One way to do it is not let the build-up of a decade of internet hyperactivity paralyze your thinking, and overload your circuits.

Word.

ps I also did it with my email account. All the junk I have subscribed to over the years, gotta go-gotta go!

To Be At My Own Fingertips

2011-08-02T12:13:00.000-07:00

I can't stress enough how forcing myself to go without internet, as well as actually not being able to have it even if I could at times... was an eye opening experience.

I lived as a child before the 'information age'. This didn't mean I was without a craving for information. Forever reading... at the library, through my mom and dad's library filled with encyclopedias and our National Geographic magazines, discarded school textbooks.

Then this thing... AOL a way to get on the world wide web. This... google... ask it anything. Look at this extraultralglobalicious information portal... hooked-up.

You know I was, and am, and so glad to have it back.
All these stupid little phones and tablets and such just doesn't cut it for my X-Gen sized mind.
To be able to be me, and to find me... wherever I want to find myself is so visceral, I have to have it.

Glad to be back,

I have so much to tell you...

2011-03-25T11:16:00.001-07:00

a yellow rose watercolor/sketch. Not much time for artwork lately. It depends on how you look at it. I see the work I am doing on the new (old) house as a work all on it's own merit.

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2011-03-09T18:35:00.001-08:00

Dismal Haiku

2010-10-27T13:05:00.000-07:00

what the water knows

the water will never tell

You'd have to be there

a teeny ode for my sister, the Dismal

constantly in my blood, for we breathe with the same breath

We respire each other.

A paternal link, peat moss in my very DNA, water filtered through her cells sustains my own.

it is the closest, but it is not the end... She and me the two of us we... are part of the whole.

Gaian Collective

Treat us well as you should yourself.

Wherever you are.

A Selection of Scribbles

2010-10-15T10:52:00.000-07:00

Propaganda

Poisonous American Discourse.
Propaganda, of course.
Run amok through brains of muck - mired in the bog of McSulci and WalMartapoptosis.
Black orchid of the hot-house variety
Bred intentionally
Forced into existence
Against the natural way of the world

Seeking

Education is not the act of being taught, it's the act of using the tools given to you by the learned to actively seek the truth for yourself.
Take what is told to you lightly, and run to the nearest forest of knowledge and blaze a path to the truth for yourself.
You will never forget the way, then... For you are the trailblazer of knowledge within your mind

Free Bird

Hark! The breathless feeling
of change.
A leap of faith
causing me to contort
in midair with
the suppleness of a cat
-- Natural Acrobat --
landing -- surefooted
no matter the takeoff
position, propulsion, or
situation
-- Even Steven --
I live to stay in
this flow no matter its
direction, intention, or
evolution
I make it change
course because I
have that power. I am
free... I can do what I want

The Red Barn

2010-10-08T05:28:00.000-07:00

Most people can look back over the years and identify a time and place at which their lives changed significantly. Whether by accident or design, these are the moments when, because of a readiness within us and a collaboration with events occurring around us, we are forced to seriously reappraise ourselves and the conditions under which we live and to make certain choices that will affect the rest of our lives.

- Frederick F. Flack

It's time to plant those trees I've been talking about for the last 25 years.

Roots.

Physical work to keep my 40 year old body strong, enough land to hunt, fish and farm organic, natural food. More time and space to be creative by having a helpmate and friend, without whom this project would be impossible.

It still may be impossible, as we have only just made an offer. It may not work out at this location.
...but I have a feeling...

Time Haiku

2010-09-26T09:59:00.000-07:00

Breaths pass, moments tick

In Time's abyss...forever

Why do I waste them?

it will happen

Keyhole Haiku

2010-09-22T07:17:00.001-07:00

I leave the key out

it leaves free spirits and breeze

ways to come and go

Her

2010-09-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

She is waiting..somewhat impatiently.
She's been around for a while. She lives in a novel I've been slowly tapping away at.

Many overlooked her as a mere woman until she allowed a portrait to be painted.
In the portrait, she displayed her prize.

Her Prize

2010-09-21T08:28:00.001-07:00

Detail of a painting I have been working on... For three years. I never finished it.

It's a gentle reminder that Madam is knocking on my door lately.
Darla... she says... have you forgotten? You promised to spill all the gory details. Now get to it.

Cypress Tree

2010-09-18T12:36:00.000-07:00

beneath still waters

entwined roots and fish mingle

only seems lonely

Spider's Web Haiku

2010-09-13T07:54:00.000-07:00

Rain Soaked Spider's Web

Glistening Globules Growing

Along Silken Strands

What was the worst advice you've ever received?

2010-09-10T05:08:00.001-07:00

To "forego art and writing and get a real job, you can do the others in your spare time."
What a crock! I only wasted years working for someone else's benefit, and ignoring my passions.

Ask me anything

Possibilities -Pink Hibiscus

2010-08-24T09:58:00.000-07:00

they are endless. Truly.

I have a body of work I have been collecting for years, I've played with web pages and sites and customized to my heart's content, and now it's coming together.

Seriously coming together...
like actually using digital techniques to play with the images more than I ever did. I would only crop or contrast or saturate. Now I'm playing with filters and smudges and stuff I never ventured to before. Designing cards and clothes around the images opens a whole new world, I never glimpsed for myself.

I don't know why I never did. There is a first time for everything, right?

So here's a hibiscus I played with. I am happy with the effect.
Different, changed, but still all mine.

I'm even keeping up this blog a bit more.

Who knows what will happen.

Coyote

2010-08-22T09:30:00.000-07:00

Began last night, and finished this morning.

We went to the pow wow yesterday, and I finally got the burr in my paw to get that coyote out...it has been howling inside of me for a few weeks now.

This is my very first finished oil pastel picture. I'm happy and now I need to get the turtles out. They have been much more patient. Like, years in the making.

Coyote

14' x 17'

oil pastel on heavy paper

And it can already be bought http://www.zazzle.com/coyote_poster-228803626482858529

How cool is that?!

Royalties

2010-08-22T06:59:00.000-07:00

I have shut out.
For now... quit my steady job to take on students from the local community colleges, again. It's okay, I love it. However, it is frightening to jump off when you have children to raise on your own.

I have to work extra hard, now.

The students will trickle in.

My income will be constrained.

I discovered Zazzle. Well... I didn't discover it, but I was made aware. I was so excited, I forget now why I was there to begin with, or how I got there.

I have been painting and taking photographs for years with no feasible (make that free-sible) outlet to attract customers. Or at least without the knowledge of such places... for me, that is. You know... a nobody artist in a sea of nobody artists. Mine eyes hath been opened.

Anyway, I have just plain stopped the presses of my doing for others, for the time being.

I'm working on my own repetoire.

Who knows... if everyone has been telling me the truth, and I DO have a good eye, a keen brush, and a sharp wit, I should be able to make a brilliant go at it.

I would link to the store, but as of now, the system has the storefronts whacked out, but the designs are out there.

Until then... I'm designing.

Mobile mantid

2010-08-12T04:49:00.001-07:00

Checking my mobile settings with an 8x10 mantid work in progress.

It's eyes are a bit alien, I think, I'm not sure where that came from. This is one part of a larger work with three canvases. It will show a food chain stalking in progress on three levels of canvas depth.

The entire work is based on my own observations. I watched a dragonfly stalk, catch and eat a fly... just a few hours later, I was watching a mantid on my front walk, suddenly, it reached out and grabbed a dragonfly clean out of the air, and gobbled it right down. It was a vicious and delicious fight.

The mantid held the dragonfly and ate it head-first, munching all the way down until it was holding nothing but wings. Wild.

My Sketching Palette

2010-08-04T04:34:00.000-07:00

I've never kept a solid journal for longer than maybe four days.

But, now I hear that a way to stave off artist's block and procrastination is to keep an art journal. I looked over several examples, and decided to just dedicate what I have here to that end.

How about starting off with my favorite sketching palette, this is what I start every painting with, then add color as needed.

Burnt Sienna is what I sketch with and use to make black by mixing with the phtalo blue. I then make a greyscale with the white.

I like to sketch with a #4 or #5 round brush. The Burnt Sienna lends an earthy and real base for the shadows, and make a great jumping off place for the color when it comes.

Sketching with paint? Oh, yes. With oil paint, it is possible. It can be moved around in a way that pencils can't be moved, it can be erased...restarted...erased...restarted over and over again.

My first videos from the studio are coming soon. If you have EVER wanted to paint, but never tried, I want for you to try now. I don't care the plethora of reasons you can come up with to discourage your talent of self, just try it. I want to show you how.

Art is not pretentious, people make it so. Everyone is a natural artist, all that is needed is the basic set, an example to start with, and off you go.

It's the little things, like knowing you CAN erase an oil painting. Didn't you listen to what Bob Ross had to say?

'There are no mistakes in painting, only happy accidents'

Wood and Grimm

2010-08-02T18:46:00.000-07:00

I had a flash of inspiration while I was looking at some of my older paintings. What is MY art journal for if not for recording MY quick thoughts before they slip away. From what I've seen, many people have art journals that are glorious examples of extended scrapbooking.

I hate scrapbooking. (in the new crafty sense, I used to have a scrapbook in the literal sense.)

I read the term 'art journal' when I set out to wrangle my societally induced adult ADD lifestyle and grab my potential by the horns to steer myself where I want to go. To get over my procrastinatory ways, I read I should keep a daily art journal.

I was thinking 'diary with drawings and clippings' then I searched 'art-journal' and I was instantly put off by the idea as it was presented. I kept reading it was supposed to be whatever I wanted, in whatever format.

I wanted online and digital, but I don't think my screen will take but so much paste.

So no pages of collage and decorative wordings. Mine is a diary, and some pictures. I need bones in my diet, and not so much meat. Meat I have... something to hold it up is called for now.

Inspiration flash... I make nice gnarly, woody, and dark. I love to catch expressions... In my mind I saw the expression of a Grimm style heroine peeking from behind a Black Forest tree, her wide eyes, her fingers pressing into the rough bark, the rough bark grabbing at her garb. What she sees is just barely reflected in her liquid and detailed eyes. Most viewers should not notice this until really looking at the painting's nooks and crannies.

This is what I saw when looking at one tiny detail of a completely unrelated painting.

This is what I mean by an art journal.

Ballard Peaches 16x20 oil on stretched canvas.

The peaches were picked off of the tree in my yard. A leftover from when the farm was a peach orchard and fruit stand.

Cojones

2010-08-02T18:20:00.000-07:00

Just spit it out Sarah. Are you woman enough to take the balls out of your mouth?

No, I don't think so.

Is it somehow okay for this horrid wreck of a reality show whore to say out loud that the elected President doesn't have the Cojones for fill-in-the-blank.

Is it somehow okay because it is a foreign word... does it make it politically correct?

Go ahead, Sarah. Say it in English. Since it is the preferred language (nay, OFFICIAL language) of your darling posse party of tea leaf readers, go ahead...

Look him in the face and tell him HE doesn't have THE BALLS.

I dare you. Who has the biggest balls of them all?

Is It Odd?

2010-07-31T09:26:00.000-07:00

How is it that I don't believe in ghosts, yet I think my house is haunted?
How is it that I am doing things my way, yet I check if what I'm doing is okay with the inhabitants?
How is it that when I know I'm alone, I talk to the people in the house?

It's not Popeye... he's out here in the furnace house. This was where he spent most of his time... here and out on the farm, around the pond.

....Then there is the old "house in the yard" where long ago, enslaved people lived, loved and feared, and hoped, laughed and cried, worked and died. I often stand at the upstairs hall window at night and just listen... Imagine the little dark faces peering from their upstairs window at my house, and wonder what they thought.

I love this place, I do. Over 200 years of sheltering life in this place in space.

It's not forever, of course, this I know. One day, probably sooner than later, Quarter Moon House will be gone. I don't know if mine will be the last tribe of humans to live here, but if I am...

I'm determined to absorb every bit of energy left here,

in the paint and dust and behind walls,

Recording my time as I add to it all, like a new spice in the stew.

If I'm not the last, of course I will leave it with more whispers and scents of my life.

How awesome is that?

Freedom of Speech

2010-07-29T21:50:00.000-07:00

It's wonderful that it works both ways, isn't it?
I certainly think so.

Tracy Morgan - Uncle Jemima

2010-07-25T06:46:00.000-07:00

Tracy Morgan is one funny man.

I was watching SNL best Commercial Parodies last night, and saw this spoof which I had never seen before. It is now my favorite:

Blackbeard Pirate Festival - Hampton VA - Day 2

2010-07-11T09:15:00.000-07:00

By far, the Blackbeard Festival is our favorite of the annual fests around Hampton Roads. It is the only one that can get me out for at least 2 of the three days.

The scene is free, literally. No admission tickets needed, and plenty of free parking right smack dab in the middle of it all.

Loads of fest-y food and drink, and best of all, places to sit, eat, drink and be merry.

This is very attractive to my tribe. Who likes to stand and juggle a gyro and a beer? Not us.

Hampton Police force also does a fine job of being lenient, and inconspicuous. Translate that as being a very low-hassle event.

This year I went out adult-style on Friday, then took the younger of my boys on Saturday.

The brat turned on his old mam and tried to capture her at the point of his blunderbuss... earning the ire of her dastardly dark side, conjured up and evident in her meanest pirate face.

"GGRrrrr YAR! I'll butter me homebaked bread with the marrow from yer bones, ye turncoat."

Teeth: Tools yer mama told you not to use and then uses herself to chew through the restraints, or tie on a motherly leather wristlet.

Pirates take pictures, too.

Last year I took these shots of a van that I fell in love with, because I figured, 'that's dedication'.

Yes.. that is a ships wheel affixed to the steering wheel.

This year I find out it belongs to The Brigands who had entertained us greatly last night, and again today (in a more intimate setting 'unplugged' style)

So... I bought a CD for a tenner from a beautiful lass, I believe was named Baby-Punch McGee which helped them gas up their brilliant land yacht to head off on more piratey adventures.

Meanwhile... at Pirate's Cove...

it was dinnertime...

The best was watching the kids swordfighting and then dancing in the round in front of the Bunch of Grapes Tavern at Pirates Cove.

Wild little heathens... it was great.

The dancing was the best, and I will tell you why...

The young lady is trying to get the kids to dance in a circle, but they won't get it together when the music starts.

It quickly progresses to a free-for-all of movement and screamy fun. I love looking at the different body gyrations they are so joyously going through.

Even the pirates had to get into it...

And yea, oh yea they lit up the bridge 'waterfall' of sparks

Yo Ho Ho.. Until next year mateys!

Blackbeard Pirate Festival 2010 - Hampton, VA I

2010-07-10T09:06:00.000-07:00

Yarrrr!
Pirates have again taken over Hampton, Virginia... 'tis expected and well received by the natives (many of whom are pirates disguised as office personnel and laborers)

This year, they are here to celebrate the 400th birthday of the Citie of Hampton.

I went to celebrate busty wenches, grog, and sea shanties. And to buy a sweet leather wrist gauntlet complete with celtic knot... I intentionally didn't buy the second so I have to go back tonight to get it ;) my other wrist is quite jealous and will drive the car.

Besides I have a sneaky feeling (hope, is the word) they will light up the bridge tonight, as they didn't during last night's fireworks. I see the black under the bridge... hmmm.

Some photos from last evening:

The Brigands from New York entertained heartily while I swilled Loose Cannon Hop3 IPA for a decent 4$ a cup, bought from some lovely and busty wenches at the Bunch of Grapes Tavern. Please tip your wenches. The captain-in-training here had just been trying to pick up rocks with a hook-hand. I missed the shot. "Yar, it's damned difficult to pick up rocks with yer hook."

A lovely tree to camp beneath.

Sirrah...Dinna eat the baby!!

Ahh. Now that's a good pirate. They're just sharing a drink.

I love being down by the waterfront, any day, any night.

"Hear the bells ring as the tide rigging sings

It's a son of a gun of a chorus"~J.Buffett

It's a Pirate's life for me.

New Math

2010-06-26T04:55:00.000-07:00

I was looking up pretentiousness and art and found this, and laughed and laughed, and then I painted.

http://www.morenewmath.com/

Some good stuff there at More New Math. Simple, direct, thought provoking, and funny.

Two thumbs, I have them.

Working For Me

2010-06-25T04:40:00.000-07:00

Not too long ago, while I was lamenting on how I felt spread too thin, I was given a mantra.

You need to pick your spot, choose your moment and stick with that, but never give up variety

So, I mulled..
I do that, often, maybe too much, but that's not MY problem.

How do I offer up the best of my abilities and make a seismic ripple?
How do I feed my family without greasing someone else's wheels, as I watch mine go to bare metal?

Where do the best of my abilities lie? Is it writing? Art? Teaching?

Painting is my native language.

Teaching is an ability I am lucky to possess

I'm going to open up my studio at Quarter Moon House via web cast.

I'm recording video on painting and sketching with a brush

I'll continue to write, but I have neglected my artwork.

I can feel the dark longing from my native tongue,

crying because I have neglected

the bud of self.

Planes Causing Rains

2010-06-16T04:56:00.000-07:00

I saw this story, and I was instantly transported to my childhood.
National Geographic News - Planes Change Weather
I thought that the planes in the sky made clouds, and thus made the rain. What was I supposed to think? With the vaporous jet stream pouring out of the back... it would stay long after the plane was out of sight. In my immature mind I explained that the thin stream was like a seeding. They grew into storms over time.

I may have been on to something... I must've been some kind of untapped child prodigy. hmph.

Remembering Winter Before Summer Solstice

2010-06-14T19:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just need to compare... to re-mind myself.

I could complain about the heat and storms.

Or... I could take myself back to this last long and bitter winter.

Extremes

We are on the cusp of the Solstice.

Stop and re-member.

Relish in the extremes.

Designer

2010-06-12T14:55:00.000-07:00

Playing with Blogger's new design feature.

It should be easy, but it bogs down. Maybe it's just my laptop, but I don't think so.

Too slick = slow as syrup in January.

It must have known I was flirting with going back to WP (shh) because I was getting ready to export everything over there when I saw the new digs. It's all I really wanted anyway....
New template choices but the same easy and familiar structure.

It's kept me playing here anyway.

Haggard's New Flock Finds Faith In Redemption Story

2010-06-08T08:34:00.000-07:00

"...we had many who told us they loved us, which was encouraging, but we so appreciated those who demonstrated their love for us in practical ways," Haggard said

I'm going to exchange 'practical' for 'monetary'.

They so appreciate those that demonstrated their love with money.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

'Hitch-22': 6 Juicy Celebrity Bites From Christopher Hitchens's New Memoir (PHOTOS, POLL)

2010-06-08T07:28:00.000-07:00

Stopped at slide 3. Nothing juicy here. Sloppy and sad, yes. Juicy...no.

A has been that never really was.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Storms Anew

2010-05-16T06:29:00.000-07:00

The air rises in the coming storm
Sweeping over the sleeping people
Blowing cool through the open windows

Amphibian swamp symphonies
Harmonize with insectual sexuality
Calling in joyous earthy rapture for the rain

In a sudden hush the bog's lush life
Stops to reckon the quickening lightning
Riding on the heat of a spent day

A tap and a pat pittered down
On leaves at first, then hits the ground
The swamp gives way to the sound of
ssssshhhhhhhhhh
All abrupt, life erupts outside the house
As within when wind lashes the water splatters
Shatters the easy dreams of sleeping beings

Awake, awake with you
look at what I can do
I put on a show for you to view

Anew, Anew you in the blue light of my fury
watch me wash your dusty world
And give you life, anew.

Throat

2010-05-15T09:16:00.000-07:00

and you touched me there...
like no one else had ever dared

I gave a glare, yet you just stared
at my pale flesh before you, bared

the sweetest touches are those so rare
that I would spread without a care

my silken, strawberry-blonde hair
and let you lick and bite me where

wrapped within a delicate layer
my life's blood pulsates... unaware

Of just how close it is to being shared

Untangling

2010-05-15T06:07:00.000-07:00

People who untie knots and untangle skeins
of yarn or chains
know this very well.

When untangling a confluctuated
bumble fucktuation
you must find your ends first.

Stupidity Simplified

2010-05-13T09:29:00.000-07:00

Yes... thanks be.

What was your worst travel experience?

2010-04-26T07:06:00.000-07:00

I honestly don't have one. Travel is rife with unexpected events. That is what makes it wonderfully exciting.

Ask me anything

What was the most interesting place you've traveled to?

2010-04-26T07:04:00.000-07:00

I lived in Bavaria in my early teens. Forever a Bavarian. Woodland outdoor culture. Robust, charming people...the best food and beer. Wandertags!! Die Zugspitze!!!

Ask me anything

These Idiots

2010-04-26T06:59:00.000-07:00

LOL lol lol

Some may argue deist in some cases, but whatevERr.
Hair splitting is for bad combs.

Mask

2010-04-23T08:21:00.000-07:00

I would make my own mask
I thought sullenly at the masked faces hustling
by and by

Hearted sleeves evolves to bullseyes
and the sharks hone in.

I would cut off my sleeves
I would make my own mask, revolting
my oh my

Propaganda

2010-04-21T12:03:00.000-07:00

Oh how true it is..
How about this one...

Yep.

Pledge of Allegiance

2010-04-20T10:44:00.000-07:00

I pledge allegiance to this bag
And the united state of Euphoria
A free and stoned public will forever stand
One nation, under buds
Individuals
For Liberty and justice for all.

Dominant Allele: Wild

2010-04-18T07:02:00.000-07:00

I wanted to take a moment to put down a little groundwork.
My parents grew up poor... My mom's parents lived in a 200 year old, two room, hand-hewn log cabin with no running water or electricity. This was in depression-era Appalachia.
Their people had already been there a while. When the brand new American government began scouting into the savage wilderness past the Eastern Piedmont, and making records of what they found, my family was already established out there, A mixture of displaced Ulster Scots living and making families with the indigenous who had been there forever.
I can finger my direct line here. Grandpa was a coal miner, he brought his family (mom was 6) down from the mountain to work industrial jobs in Norfolk, Suffolk, Cleveland. He went back after his children were raised, literally, and economically. The mountains were in his blood, he despised the city life. He wanted to move back and be where he belonged. I am lucky to have been able to be there with him and Granny often. He died when I was 26.
Granny moved down here 11 years ago. I go back to see the ones that are left. There are many relatives my age there, but I'm afraid we don't have much in common anymore. They have been mutated by Coal Industryopathy, Wal-Martiopia, Oxycontinuity, and Ritalinability. It's pitiful. sorrowful.
... And
My dad's family are from the swamp. We are connected to the family farm in Murfreesboro NC...still the same last name...we don't live there. The direct line leads to slavers granted land from King George. My dad's family line weren't the ones who inherited the farm.
Swamp dwelling, small farming. Dad grew up terribly poor, joined the army before he was legally able by lying about his age...he did it so the family had one less mouth to feed. He sent his money home. He killed so he wouldn't be killed in Vietnam.
I never knew my grandpa, he died before I was born. He was a bootlegger, painter, farmer. (my mom's side all made 'moonshine' but more for home use. Uisbaugh.) Almost the entire Vaughan clan lives hereabouts, I don't have much in common with many of them because they all chose to make 'better' choices than bootlegging and are very ~~good and~~ comfortable American southern baptists (many have WalMartiopia and Changeophobia)
I do have a point...
My mom and dad and their parents all went for a piece of the American dream that came pounding on their doorsteps during the age of depression and post war ApplePieNess.
They raised me and my younger brother to want to have all the trappings they were able to now buy. They had a good healthy McCarthy education, It was so much better to have a choice of shoes to wear than to be barefoot by necessity. They, too could have the comfortable homes and lives that they saw at the picture shows and later on television, Plenty of easy food... leisure time.. well mannered children.

Have you ever tried to dress a monkey?

Mom must've had it tough. Though she tried to put the frilly-bottomed tights, and patent-leather shoes and pretty bows on her fair-skinned little girl, I ran through the earth and everything in it with no regard for convention. Temper-tantrums and willfullness that would, today, have gotten me on some prescription regimine. If I couldn't have my way, there wouldn't be a way...if she locked me in my room for both of our sakes, I would turn out every drawer, relieve the bed of its sheets, mattress and box-springs, and pound the floor with my heels, then fists. I remember distinctly the day she had to physically force me on the school bus as a first grader. I braced myself, foot and hand at the bus door, while everyone watched, I hollered like a banshee. Damn it all...she got me on the bus.
Slowly I conformed enough to function.
I even started to mimick some of my peers, I learned I was supposed to pair off and make a family when I was old enough. I learned a lot of things. I tried to be what I was supposed to be.
It didn't work out so well, most of the time. I was miserable, unless I was doing what I wanted. Mom was miserable, unless I was doing what was expected. Everyone else was miserable when mom is miserable.
We fought and argued so much. Dad and bro ducked for cover.
I made bad mistakes to gain what I thought was freedom.
My wild nature makes me unsuitable for anything less than true freedom.
Some social mutation cause an allele to show up in the industrial age. Some kind of conformity gene, coding for civilization. It's phenotype glossy, and modern, alluring.
In my parents it is dominant.... but I think both are carriers of the recessive WILD gene.

oooops

I am so lucky. My phenotype is wild, uncivilized, heartpoundingly so. I have to be true to myself. I'm in the process of cracking off the burnt crust of being held too close to the bling.
They don't like it very much, but I'm only truly happy when I'm running wild and free.

I am getting closer to the jumping off place... so close.

Anyone want to jump?

Would you rather have the ability to fly, or the ability to breathe underwater?

2010-04-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

I would like to fly. I dream I am flying, often. They are my most vivid and exhilarating dreams. When I dream of water, it is of dying, confusion, and I am not supposed to be there.
The ability to breathe there would not stop my innate fear of the abyss.

Ask me anything

Bluffing

2010-04-09T09:42:00.000-07:00

What's your biggest phobia?

2010-04-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

Theophobia and Ursaphobia...I'm scared o bears and religion. But I live in the woods with bears, and have faced them. They are grand and natural... It's more of a healthy respect. I don't have much respect for religion, it is neither grand nor natural

Ask me anything

Get Over It

2010-04-07T21:18:00.001-07:00

Do you believe in fate?

2010-04-07T21:18:00.000-07:00

LMAO, No. I believe in free will. To believe in fate would lead me to an insane place of non-compliant self destruction.

Ask me anything

Have you ever been fired? If so, why?

2010-04-04T18:58:00.000-07:00

No, I have never been fired.
I've had lots of jobs...that means I'm a quitter.
Not really, I'm just not into wasting my time and talents on people who don't deserve or appreciate it.

Ask me anything

Obama Calls Out Limbaugh, Beck: 'Troublesome' (VIDEO)

2010-04-02T03:58:00.000-07:00

In this time of hope and change, I am beginning to hope that this teastain will actually be a good thing.

It is bringing together that living, boiling racism that has been residing just below the surface. Flushing it out into the open, where it can see and be seen.

Where it can rear it's ugly head, and show how feeble...old, and wrinkly it has gotten.

Where it can get lopped off in one fell swoop by the future.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Smashed

2010-03-26T20:22:00.000-07:00

Violence Or Health?

2010-03-22T23:21:00.000-07:00

If you choose health, I'ma gonna come at you with good old fashioned KKK style violence.

"Patriots" vandalize Democrat Offices ... In more than one place!

This is a problem. These ignorant, low life hicks have been

twisted and turned

roasted on a putrid spit

made by their own party leaders

They don't recognize their country,

because it never existed

beyond what they were told

during Cowboy Jim and Mikey Moose hours

while eating the wholesome prepackaged foods

now made even easier with micro-waves

and moms who bring home the bacon.

Give me a Fucking break.

you've been had.

By your baseball, and your pie

and your White-washed suburban streets

where you knew the dark people didn't come

except to clean your drain.

Now you wonder...

where did all the people with scarves on their heads come from?

Oh, my those new people that moved in

They ain't speakin' English, and how come Tampax has 'mexican' instructions.

God gamn them all to hell, they are takin over, I swear.

I'm going to show 'em I

will take back MY AmeriKa

with Violence....

it's the american way?

Frightening GOP Behavior

2010-03-22T19:14:00.000-07:00

Worse, the rhetoric stirs up an impressionable and volatile portion of the American public. Which is exactly what it is designed to do. It creates an US against THEM mentality that will ensure the faithful stands stalwartly against anything and everything the current administration tries to do.

Shameful. Maniacal.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

evil, Interrupted

2010-03-22T07:54:00.000-07:00

Evil is like a shadow - it has no real substance of its own, it is simply a lack of light. You cannot cause a shadow to disappear by trying to fight it, stamp on it, by railing against it, or any other form of emotional or physical resistance. In order to cause a shadow to disappear, you must shine light on it. -Shakti Gawain, teacher and author (b. 1948)

Words: Olla Podrida

2010-03-21T08:48:00.000-07:00

olla podrida

PRONUNCIATION: (OL-uh puh-DREE-duh, AWL-yuh, AW-yuh)

noun:
1. An incongruous mixture.
2. A spicy stew of seasoned meat, vegetables, chickpeas, etc.

ETYMOLOGY: From Spanish olla podrida (literally, rotten pot), from olla (pot) + feminine of podrido (rotten).

USAGE: "Alice Randall's collection of cookbooks is formidable, an olla podrida of Junior League and soul food cookbooks and classics like The Joy of Cooking."Penelope Green; What Matters Most; The New York Times; Sep 16, 2009. (from Wordsmith.org )

Racism- Throwback, Pure White Sugar

2010-03-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

Man, retro is really where it's at, and that's a fact, Jack.

If you have to say: "it's not because he's black" after you state how much you dislike someone...
It IS because he's black and you are a racist.
You are pointing out the fact that you believe it makes a difference. It's a cop out.
"He's not MY president... and, it's not because he's black, either. I just don't like his pol-u-sees."
Bullshit.
You don't like him because he's not lily-white. He could figure out a way to clean up the whole world and personally make you rich, and you would still find him wrong in every way.

Barack Obama isn't the poster child for your Amerika, and it makes your skin crawl.

Me, I'm out. I don't care. But you sure are ugly, Miss American Pie.

HuffPo Posting Problems

2010-03-20T23:15:00.000-07:00

I still haven't figured out how to post comments on other sites to here. For example, HuffPo has the link ability, but I just can't seem to get it to do it.
Rar.
Anyway, here's the link to the first story I actually commented on as GreatDismal at Huffington Post.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/20/tea-party-protests-nier-f_n_507116.html#slide_image

Tomorrow, a vote for health care?
I'm just afraid I'm going to get shot or run over by some likker'd up trailer park teabagger if it goes through.
I hope it does.

The Highwayman

2010-03-20T22:10:00.000-07:00

“When the highwayman holds his gun to your head, you turn your valuables over to him. You 'consent' alright, but you do so because you cannot help yourself, because you are compelled by his gun. Are you not compelled to work for an employer? Your need compels you, just as the highwayman’s gun.” ~Alexander Berkman

Words

2010-03-20T19:25:00.000-07:00

I was just thinking about making a tag for 'words' since I'm always searching for new ones to expand my palette for the art of writing.
I signed up for a word-a-day in my email inbox about a year ago, and thought I'd scan it for some content.
Lo! One of my favorites, and one I use as a category tag on my main blog Barefoot Heathen was the word of the day.
So it is the first tagged word on DarlaStuff. I'll make it a tag here too, because it's versatile.

Gallimaufry
PRONUNCIATION: (gal-uh-MAW-free)

Noun: A hodgepodge; a jumble.

ETYMOLOGY: From Middle French galimafree (stew), probably from galer (to make merry) + mafrer (to gorge oneself).

DarlaStuff sentence: In that top drawer, you'll find a gallimaufry of jewelry I never wear.

Run Away

2010-03-20T10:24:00.000-07:00

Run away

to hold onto the sanity

I still possess, deep within my body human.

Run away

from the poisoned gassy stench

of the rotten corpse of civilized society.

Run away

from the vulture's gold-plated beaks

tempered in the congealed bloodflow of their design.

Run away

to find my primitive kin

squeezing out of the quickly closing talons.

Dropping Out

2010-03-20T10:01:00.000-07:00

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2123849/wilderness_squatters_drop_out_of_society.html?cat=7

Not at all extreme, and very doable.
It just takes a little planning, is all.

Equinox

2010-03-20T09:06:00.000-07:00

For every change, there is a season.
I have had enough of hoping for society to wake up.
Watching grass roots goodness getting chewed up in the ever-growing machine, year after year, has a way of jading a person.
It's okay. I'm getting more and more comfortable with it as time goes on.
All of those brow-beating lessons that were wrapped around me, as a cast, growing up an american girl have crumbled like the aging plaster that it is.
The destruction has taken far too long, and it is humbling.
It is exhilarating.
I had all these stickers on my car, Latitude Mary, showing my personality, choices...worldview.
Today I spent over an hour taking them all off.
Fuck it, it's just another reason for more doughy, angry, white men to shake their fist at me when they should be driving.
I'm going under. With purpose.
I've had enough of asking, of hoping for a society I was told existed.
The pressure IS building, and change will happen, just not the kind people have been programmed to expect.
The steam is rising, I'm slithering out through the pressure valve before it blows for good, and I get burned.

Womanhood

2010-03-20T08:33:00.000-07:00

Every single one I can get my hands on.

Mom

2010-03-20T08:26:00.000-07:00

Seriously, nurture this.
...wait, is that little boy holding mama's 'toy'?

3.6 Million Years Ago

2010-03-20T08:13:00.000-07:00

the comments on this one are crazy

I swear, I'm dropping out

http://www.scientificamerican.com/blog/post.cfm?id=human-ancestors-walked-comfortably-2010-03-20

Secession

2010-03-20T04:11:00.000-07:00

I was going to put a news story here about the health care vote tomorrow and how "deeply divided" the US public is over it.

Then I stopped. OF COURSE they're deeply divided, it's the way the whole thing is designed. I'm sick to death over death panels and politial peacock strutting. I don't want to make this a trash bin.

Rather, an odd collection.

Notice, I said they...

I seceded myself last night.

Fuck all the posturing.

Scientific American - Is Earth past the tipping point?

2010-03-19T23:46:00.000-07:00

http://www.scientificamerican.com/video.cfm?lineup=1406165298&id=72509495001

Don't Pay Any Mind

2010-03-19T23:19:00.000-07:00

...to what's going on here.
It's just a place for me to put the stuff I find and I like so I don't have to save it anywhere else.

Further

2010-03-19T23:04:00.000-07:00

further out

I keep traveling ... or being pushed

I don't know which

further out from

the centers of disillusion

and deceit, and dastardly vanity

further out to

my own big bang

dissolving back to natural

chaos.

Skinny Dip

2010-03-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

Sultry, still swamp air - blanketing her skin

heat opening pores - sweat, nowhere to go.

Forming rivulets - showing where it's been

Before she jumps in - she tests with her toe.

Goodnight Moon

2010-03-16T11:17:00.000-07:00

The moonrise for the past three nights
makes my inner lunatic tremble

for it's beloved

spilling into the cold swamp night air

thrilling with her reflection

in the shallow black

water

Done Debating

2010-03-14T10:51:00.000-07:00

After a few years of debate

I have scraped my plate

Of endless volleys regarding religion

Nearly impossible to get,

Once the mind is set,

Someone with opposing viewpoints to listen.

Of course, I know that I am guilty

I've shut out plenty

Of tired talking points thrown in competition

I have sought, openmindedly

You will not see me

Returning to paths of barren fruition.

I choose conversing candidly

With those who are free

Of nitpicky semantics, always pushing for proof

Living proudly as atheist

seeking just to exsist

Dodging oppression while stumbling for truth.

The Gamble

2010-03-05T04:40:00.000-08:00

There once was a place called America
Where honest hard work would take care of ya
They all got sold out
Lost all of their clout
By gambling their dreams on suburbia

Phermonal

2010-03-04T16:46:00.000-08:00

Apocrine glands

soaking skin

with ethers of passionate anticipation.

Scented soley for attraction

Tasting of evaporated salination...and sex

defines the emissions of a truly sacred source

recognized instantly, yet incognisant

Squeezed juice

of the enteric vine

the only thing truly inherent

If

2010-03-02T08:29:00.000-08:00

If I slid my energy

into your wet, warm mouth

and caught your tongue

you would spill your secrets

across my glistened aura

like silvered globules of joyous relief

Moss

2010-02-19T15:02:00.000-08:00

Only weeks after last years wildfires, I saw moss growing on the spongy swamp floor while on a solitary walkabout through my special place, The Great Dismal Swamp

Ever changing timelessness, as close as I will ever come to infinity.

please click on photo to enlarge

Roots

2010-02-19T08:38:00.000-08:00

The roots of a tree upturned after a wildfire in the Great Dismal Swamp.

So tangly and gnarly,
I stood ever so still in the cold and watched little critters carefully emerge and return to their endeavors in progress before I so rudely interrupted, with my large mammalian interference.

Going Mobile

2010-02-19T05:17:00.000-08:00

Much like my twitter account, I like to send pictures of stuff right in front of me. In my neglecting state of late, I thought it would be easy to put in a few words from out in the field.

Glad to see my test picture worked.

Now I can blah blah blah all day in more than 140 characters.

2010-02-19T05:05:00.001-08:00

Testing

Simple

2010-02-18T22:59:00.000-08:00

I do believe I like it better simple. No extras to load, and everthing easy to find.

I have spent a few days just strolling around the 'next blog' tab like I used to when I first began using blogger. Observations:

I hate pages with lots of flashy uploads and ads I'll never click on.
There are way too many blogs about blogging (black hole, anyone?)
Still some WAAAAY too personal stuff being put out there.
I don't know what to do with mine, and never have.

I'm too flighty to dedicate Barefoot Heathen to one facet of anything, so I'll just let it keep being a record of whatever the fuck I want.

Achoo!

2010-02-18T21:33:00.000-08:00

Dusting it off and changing a few things.

Whittle away, whittle away.

Barefoot Artist

2009-08-02T07:12:00.000-07:00

I have only begun calling myself 'an artist' rather recently. I had this silly idea that to call yourself an artist meant that you painted for a living.

I have probably made less than $100 off of art. I don't know how to sell it. I can't translate it into a price. I've been asked, "How much do you want for that?" and my answer usually is, "uh, I dunno...what do you think?"

I can calculate how much the materials cost, but I don't. I can calculate time and put a price on it, but it seems wrong. So I end up giving away many pieces as gifts along the way.

Solstice coming up, no problem...the picture you like is probably going to be along, birthday maybe.

I set up to travel with my supplies, and do go out in the field often. Sometimes just on the floor of a friends house...

I have a very modest workspace in my suite on a little butcher block table next to the window and a minifridge.

Often, a painting gets frustrated with me, and we are at odds. There is always a stack of canvases in progress, some abandoned.

Some just waiting for me to get finished with washing clothes...

Some...drawn and painted straight from a Playboy.

Some while I'm watching a DVD of Dave Matthews and get inspired *pause...

Some while my mind is wandering...

Some to show unforgettable moments....

Some to show forgotten spans of time...

Some to show athletic concentration...

Some to show athletic exhilaration...
Some to show encounters with nature....

And...yep...Fruit. This one is called Grapes of Wrath, and was made while I was on the phone for the last time with a woman that had called me friend and I her...She was jealous and selfish, and she was yelling at me for fourty five minutes. I let her have her say, all the while silently painting...

Anyway...I love art, and I do make art works so I am an artist. I love it so much, I made another one...looks just like me...
Thank you, my friends for encouraging me, and thanks for stopping by.

Tchuss,

Darla Vaughan

How Does Your TweetGarden Grow?

2009-07-24T16:47:00.000-07:00

I have been on Twitter for nearly a year now, the first few months I didn't do much with it. I didn't know what to do with it, to be honest.
....until two things happened:

1. I acquired my very own, sleek Tweetdeck.
2. I began using Tweetdeck's search columns for topics in which I'm interested.

Very quickly I began to find people to follow. Instead of the spambot and advertiser followers, real people with real conversations and links of interest began to follow back. Twitter then became both a tool and entertainment, rolled up into one extremely efficient window where I could channel column after column of interesting people and information in a concise format easy to read and easy to interact with.

There have been issues from time to time, and weirdo's are always abundant, but with a little love, care and sometime ruthless pruning, you too can have a thoroughly enjoyable TweetGarden of your very own.

On Fridays there is the reciprocation fest known as #FollowFriday where Twitter users tell their followers who is worth following by making an @ mention. This is all well and good, and I do like to participate, however your timeline is just a mess, and so many at a time is just overkill, truthfully.

Here is the weekly updated list of people I really enjoy, so you can enjoy them as well if they seem to be a good fit. Happy Tweets!

People that just click, elemental, personal, with no reasons.
Ali_Cat71
ChristieSilver
DARKWARGOTH
Geurtie

PoetSteveDownes
RaisingThinkers

Rxchy
SnowDan
StillSoul
Suselynn

Atheist, Freethinkers, and Skeptics:

AgentChaos

Ah8r

BilBlogs
Fact3r

Freethinker_usa
GodlessGirl

Heathen2

JamesATracy
PaulFildago
Plushe
ProudAtheists

RationalBehavio

rwAtheist

SamiaHurst
Synthaetica

News, Activism, and Earthwatchers

1littlefish

1txsage1957

Quote of the Day - 7/7

2009-07-07T08:25:00.000-07:00

Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day; teach a man to fish and he
will eat for a lifetime; give a man religion and he will die praying for a fish.
– Anonymous

Scenes From Norfolk Harborfest 2009 - Part 1

2009-07-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

Southern Quotes - Robert E. Lee

2009-07-06T08:54:00.000-07:00

"A nation which does not remember what it was yesterday does not know where
it is today."
--Robert E. Lee

Blackbeard Pirate Festival - Hampton, Va

2009-07-05T12:02:00.000-07:00

Every year we go. Arrrgh-ing all the way...This is from last year's naval battle scene. This year's photos are not downloaded yet. Oh, matey, never fear, I will place them here...
uh-oh I feel a haiku coming on...

Once a year pirate?

Nay. Everyday has its way

Of turning me Arrrghn.

King Neptune - Virginia Beach

2009-07-05T11:30:00.000-07:00

Still just playing with the photos, wondering why they seemed bigger before. Maybe it's the template, or just that Blogspot shrinks them down more than Wordpress, and now I'm spoiled.

Ah well, won't be the first time.

This shot was taken two years ago in January. The sky doesn't look quite as blue in July at Virginia Beach.

Lake Drummond - Great Dismal Swamp

2009-07-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

Just playing with the image settings.

RePost: The Witch Tree

2009-07-05T10:15:00.000-07:00

This one had been posted on a long deleted blog, and it is one of my favorite shots of a tree I photograph quite often, when I visit it. Which I am supposed to, next weekend. We will see how she looks then.

Importing and Wordpress

2009-07-05T07:15:00.000-07:00

I have been using the platform at Wordpress for a few months, and still haven't decided what to do about it. I like both platforms, so I'm seriously thinking of posting on both each time. For right now, I'm just trying to import the various blog posts I have around the web onto Barefoot Heathen. Hence the weird combination of past subject matter.
Consolidation to make things easier.

Wood And Shingle Boutique

2009-03-08T18:09:00.001-07:00

I have decided to go full out and move my online store (in my house) to a building on the homestead. A lovely, petite, one room cabin with two lofts and flower boxes at the windows is being transformed to the physical store and showroom for Love Street Vintage & Curiosities Boutique.

At the present time there is nothing in the store for sale so that we can spend the time needed to get everything in place for the March 17th Grand Re-Opening!

I am very pleased to announce that I have been drafting some all new designs inspired by the friends that have held a special place in my heart, and with their friendship, have given me the tools needed to embark on this new entrepreneurial journey.

Each new design will be named for the person who inspired it, and I plan on preparing kit's for the do-it-yourselfers.

Vintage Men's Shirts

2009-02-28T13:19:00.001-08:00

In Hunter's debut as a Love Street model, he caught the bug for good quality vintage. The great 1960's Sear's and Roebuck Perma-Prest shirt he has on here has been commandeered by him. I made him a deal. If he wants it (which he does) and he wears it he will have to take a stack of Love Street Vintage cards and pass them out to anyone who asks about his ultra-unique threads...man.

The second shirt here by Van Heusen is a 70's gem, which is luckily a bit too small for Hunter. So, it will be up for sale by the beginning of the week. If you like the 60's Sears shirt, maybe he could be persuaded out of it if the price is right. Make an offer!

Hard to Find Books

2009-02-27T20:51:00.001-08:00

Vintage also applies to books....
This great early Female Empowerment tome from 1976 is still pertinent today in many ways. However, it is dated, which actually makes it fun to read.
Many more books will be going up this weekend, including 80's bodice ripper romances. Talk about Love Street...

Vintage 80's Jordache Jacket

2009-02-20T06:10:00.001-08:00

This lightweight Jordache jacket will be going up for auction this weekend. Joining it will be several secretary blouses and some great vintage men's shirts. Stop by!

Fossil Scallop Shells

2009-02-14T20:11:00.001-08:00

These are a few of my favorite things.... Collected from the Lower Yorktown Formation in southeastern Virginia, I am always thrilled at being only the second human to touch these fossils which are about 4 million years old. Out of the sediment, these Chesapecten jeffersonius go from the collector's hands to mine....on occasion, straight to mine. We never alter or coat the fossils. They are carefully excavated and simply rinsed off in fresh water.
As always, great care will be taken when shipping any item from Love Street. These items are fragile, and will be carefully wrapped, then sent in a Priority Mail shipping carton from USPS for safe delivery. Shipping labels are created through PayPal for free tracking.
Shop with confidence. I am an honest seller with a reputation for great service and quality offerings.
Bid now, don't miss out!

Boardwalk Trail at Washington's Ditch

2009-02-13T06:19:00.000-08:00

This is one of my favorite paths to go down...it seems to go on forever. You can get the authentic sensation that you could get completely lost in this wilderness without the walkway as your guide. You can let your mind wander, under the canopy, just what it might have been like if you were searching for something. Just as easily, you can wonder what it might have been like to come here to become lost, as many freedom-seekers did.

The 'Dismal Town' historical marker on the boardwalk trail educates visitors.

Love Street Jewelry

2009-02-10T21:09:00.001-08:00

Not all items at Love Street are vintage. Many are new handmade pieces, like these necklaces. Each one is a unique work of art that is shaped and designed in the moment, inspired by my mood and environment. Sometimes, I wear a creation out to gauge opinion and interest, but I will always let my customers know if a piece has been worn (and how often) when it goes up for auction.

I fell in love with this glass lampwork sea star pendant the moment I saw it...

I bought three sea stars, each one completely different. One more is the center of a finished necklace, and the other awaits inspiration to strike. I will post more sea stars in the future, look out for them!
This oxbone scrimshaw mermaid was strung on all natural sinew with tiny shells, wood and glass beads spaced by knotting the sinew periodically. A bit of wire bending and she turned out beautiful. Alas, she is sold and gone from me.

Check back often to see what new is in store...literally.