Here’s to Okie stories!

Spring

I got a note in the mail this afternoon from a sweet, sweet, strong friend. She wrote to me, basically, to tell me that she loves me. Gosh. It brought me to tears. And she inspired me to write more love letters. So, here’s one for her.

Dear K,

How much healing has taken place in your presence, because of your presence? On your old porch and at your present comfortable country home, you have loved like a father penguin. Through you, I found my way to a meditation teacher who isn’t a hokey bullshitter but a hard worker committed to doing right. Fuck yeah.

It makes sense that we’ve grown closer over the course of this year. This year, I was searching the universe for solid and sincere and open people. When I was younger, I valued fun and likability and friendliness above all else. I, being a bit of a pagan hedonist, still worship pleasure. Don’t get me wrong. But now I appreciate honesty and perseverance and calm just as much. You, my love, are a woman who represents an eagle-eyed mixture of fantasy and honesty and strength that is rare.

It’s heartbreaking, at times, to watch you grieve and work to heal. It’s strange to watch you hurt. I know you are so used to being the tough one. The invincible. The fiercest. The thing is, you still are.

I love you,

Spring

The other side has Seminole patchwork that my former mother-in-law gave me to use in a project, and so I did.

I gave it to my ex-husband/ the father-of-my-child/ friend for his birthday. He liked it. I’m glad.

Spring

And so I begin my silk scarf collection. But how does one wear a silk scarf without looking prissy or stuffy? I want to be a smart-looking lady with a fine and diverse collection of scarves for my children and my friends’ children and our children’s children to see and touch. But I don’t want to look like a snob or Fred from Scooby Doo. I think I will keep only the most wonderful scarves, and I will keep them all smelling nice, like the Medici Cocoa natural, artisan-crafted perfume that my friend Tara makes in her very own home. And then when I die, my scarves will tell people about my interests and my character. People shopping the selling of my estate will say: “Oh! A silk scarf with fishing lures! My, what an odd mix of rural and intellect this saucy lady must have possessed!” They will. Then they’ll see this picture I tried to take of myself wearing my scarf:

And they’ll giggle. But one of the people, probably a bookish girl who grew up on acreage, will see the scarf and she will not be able to carry on living without buying it for 65% off 5 dollars. And she’ll love it and consider it the beginning of her silk scarf collection, just like me. And just like me, she’ll figure out a way to work it into her wardrobe. And she’ll live happily ever after.

She will. Just like me.

Spring

My dad’s boots on the left were custom-made in Texas. Always. He had all of his boots custom-made because not only did he have small, wide feet, but he also had big preferences. For example, he preferred to have a belt buckle that matched his boots exactly. So when he had his boots made, he had a matching belt buckle made, too. The quilted leathers: each individual square is made from a different hyde and specially dyed. Cow, snake, ostrich, alligator, blue, brown, black, tan. That was success to him: being able to pay an American crafter a decent wage to create unique items, and lookin’ good.

The concert was wonderful. Dolly opened to “Light of a Clear Blue Morning.” I cried. This was the song that carried me through my first major break-up and relocating with my daughter to a new city by myself when I was 24 and she was 4. The memories that a song can unearth are as strong as a woman giving birth, I think.

The rest of the concert was equally great: I thought about my mom, my dad, my childhood home, the beautiful rural landscape of southeastern Oklahoma where I grew up, people workin’ hard with their hands, where nobody I knew had a cubicle job. I thought about love and loss, life and compassion, musical traditions, community and friends, growing old, and happiness. I realized I have had plenty of happiness. And I look forward to plenty more.

And I realize that Dolly Parton can turn me into a sappy pile of sentimentality.

And that’s okay,

Spring

P.S. Here’s a beautiful version of “Light of a Clear Blue Morning” by the Wailin’ Jennys: listen.

“Change starts with self, and relationships that we have with those around us must always be the primary site for social change.”

The above is some beauty from Patricia Hill Collins’ essay “Toward a New Vision: Race, Class, and Gender as Categories of Analysis and Connection.”

Love!

Let me tell you about my beautiful bike. It’s older, French, a bit rough and stiff but nonetheless virile and gorgeous. Just look at him:

I had been neglecting my bike because I had gotten lazy and had not bought a bike lock for it. My last bike lock (cheap, combination lock) was stolen along with my last bike, last Autumn sometime. Anyway, I hopped on my bike today and rode to Tom’s, a local bike shop that I swear only hires cute boys, to get a sturdy lock. The worker (indeed, a cute boy) at the counter explained to me that he could pick a combination lock in, like, under 5 minutes.  Don’t know if he was trying to impress me, upsell me, or educate me. Whatever, I bought the tough lock. Nobody’s stealing this from me.

Sometimes ladies like me turn to beer or ice cream or other men to get over a break-up. But for me, for this break-up, it’s me and my bike. And this too shall pass.

Spring

P.S. TULSA NEEDS MORE BIKE LANES!

Ignore fear-mongers who tell you it’s dangerous. Their message is tempting. But you and your girls will be happier and stronger if you don’t buy the extra worry.

Roast marshmallows. Or pears. Or corn. Or hot dogs. Pitch a tent.  Make a pallet. Watch the stars. Tell the moon she’s beautiful and good night.

Spring

But doesn’t it look delicious with the bubbles of pork fat floating on top?!

I used sausage that I bought at the Cherry Street Farmer’s Market from the lovely folks at Greenwood Farms (which is, sadly, downsizing considerably after this summer). The squash is from my boyfriend’s family, and the sage is from my garden. I browned all of these ingredients with a bit of olive oil to the point where the meat and squash were nearly blackened on one side. Then added the water. Also, I added plenty of mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, cayenne, fresh basil and hatch chilies. And salt and pepper – it almost goes without saying.

Don’t forget the fresh sage on the top for pretties!

Happy end of summer,

Spring

This film is our love-letter to the art form: Bringing together 60 of the world’s best cartoonists into one extraordinary, feature-length documentary. The film sits down with creators to talk about how cartooning works, why it’s so loved, and how as artists they’re navigating this dicey period between print and digital options…when neither path works perfectly. We want this film to capture the extraordinary people behind the comics you love, to show how they work…and ask the question: “Where does the art form go from here?

Looks gooooood. Go HERE to watch the trailer! Check out the Kickstarter page HERE!

Spring