Monday, September 17, 2012

Mermaid Floorcloth ~ Renae Brabham

This is one that I always wanted to paint. The Mermaid and Seahorses Floorcloth measures about 25 x 32. I have been creating floorcloths for 10 years now. Quality is my number one priority. These pieces should last for decades with very little care. I consider them floor art and take pains to be exceptional in the creation process. Each floorcloth is primed 5 times, painted with quality acrylics and then polycrylic coated 5 times as well. I welcome your input in the creation process. You have an idea, I will try to work it out on canvas for you. There is no quick stenciling done. Everything is free hand pencil and painted. Perfect for a door entry or kitchen floor. Normally, they are produced in 10 days after payment received, THIS ONE IS READY TO SHIP! These are unique and genuinely gratefully accepted gifts as well. If you have an idea that you would like to spin by me for an original piece, feel free to contact me. Also, some floor cloths are available in larger sizes. Note: I accept money orders, cashier checks or personal checks only. These are intricate pieces and I am a one gal show. I don't rush art and your floor cloth will reflect this. Thanks!

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Just Write

Waiting on the right circumstances to write will not finish that novel...a cool fall day, a day with a laptop in Starbucks sipping latte's ,divine inspiration, the right frame of mind, a day all to yourself, a chateau in a Hemingwayesque hotel...etc..etc.. I write if I am cold, if I'm hot, if I'm mad if I'm not, on keyboard or emery board.. wherever and whenever the thought's hit me

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Closet Dixie Chick~ R. Brabham

I couldn't understand why I couldn't write today. I had a few stories floating around in my brain, but when I sat at the computer...blinking cursor. Hoping for inspiration, I grabbed the leash to take Snowy for a stroll on this crisp pre-fall morning. I came back inside, sat in front of the computer...crickets. And then it happened, a cool breeze wafted in through the open patio door. I looked out and up to the swaying treetops and cloudless blue skies. And then I remembered. I looked down at my date calendar, September the 11th. The weather was eerily like the morning of the tragedy in New York City when the terrorist flew their planes into the World Trade Center, Pennsylvania and the Pentagon killing nearly 3000 people. It almost feels sacrilegious to write about anything but the tragedy or at least memorialize it today. While sitting back and thinking of that morning, little tidbits of recent inconsequential moments start to append. The beautiful scarf I saw with the label made in Vietnam this week, Anne Franks diary and a Dixie Chicks CD. I realize as a nation and part of the human race. We forgive. As I touched this beautiful hand-woven scarf and saw the label ~Made in Vietnam~ I had goose bumps crawl up my arm. I recalled the documentaries and movies of the bloody battles and maimed bodies the Vietnam war left behind. A war indecisive in years, documented by most to span 20 years. Yet in 2010 we were trading with Vietnam to the tune of $376 million a year. According to Economy in Crisis, The United States was the second largest importer of Vietnamese shrimp in the world in 2010. Let's see, then there was Japan and Pearl Harbor. According to Wikipedia Japan-United States-relations, The United States has been Japan's largest economic partner, taking 31.5 percent of its exports, supplying 22.3 percent of its imports, and accounting for 45.9 percent of its direct investment abroad in 1990. Today, although US participation in the war in Afghanistan is over, we still have infantry and national guardsmen fighting Taliban forces and trying to stabilize the country. July 22, 2012 KABUL, Afghanistan -- This year's pullout of 23,000 American troops from Afghanistan is at the halfway mark, U.S. Gen. John Allen, the top commander of U.S. and NATO forces, said Sunday in an interview with The Associated Press. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/07/22/afghanistan-war-pullout-american-soldiers_n_1692992.html Yet at the same time on the same soil, their brothers in arms are refabricating the infrastructure of Afghanistan by re-building schools, providing drinking water and medical assisting. http://www.army.mil/article/38726/civil-affairs-soldiers-prepare-for-afghan-mission/ The healing has already begun. The greed and lust for power of a few doesn't necessitate hating a whole nation. I thought of the beautiful words written in the diary of holocaust victim Anne Frank “How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” And it has already started. Then, there's this CD. I sifted through a box looking for a lost business logo. What's this? The Dixie Chicks. I packed their CD away when I tired of the mud slinging and controversy that ensued after Dixie Chick's (Natalie Maines) controversial statements about our US president on foreign soil and feuds with Toby Keith on opinions and positions on the war in Iraq. I realize now that it had less to do about what their opinions were and more to do with the fact than I just wanted to begin healing without the bickering. If I had owned a Toby Keith CD at that time, I would have done the same with his. I buy music for music's sake not for the personal lifestyle and opinion of the artist. My music collection would be quite sparse, especially considering that the list of wayward , outspoken opinionated musicians goes way back. I pop the ~Chicks~ Cd into the player. Those gals were incredible. I see a neighbor strolling past the patio near the pond and fight the urge to turn the volume down. I realize we have come along way and then again..not. There's a stigma attatched to the CD that time will have to erase. But darn they were good. I guess this makes me a closet Chick.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Fish Aren't Predjudice ~R. Brabham

We spent a day pier fishing at Mt. Pleasant Waterfront Park recently. We noticed a man that tirelessly worked the pier up and down with his rods. Each time he passed by us he was expectantly optimistic that the ~tide would change~ any second. But hours into in, he had only caught a few tiny pin fish. "They are going to start biting anytime," he excitedly told my hubby Don. Don asked "What time did you get here today?" he replied, "8:00 a.m." At 4 p.m. we started pulling our rods in. Another fisherman walks up casting his line just feet away from the gentleman who had been there all day. Almost immediately, he pulls up a big flounder, minutes later he hooks a nice Red Drum. Is it skill? Is it luck? Is it a numbers game, a wait out, a fluke, a test? "What about the person that comes and needs to catch their dinner and they don't catch it?" I ask Don. He looks at me wryly, without replying but implying "You're in Mt. Pleasant, not a third world country." Similarities, we all want to outsmart the fish and we are willing to spend an 8 hour day, bucket of minnows and several canisters of shrimp to do it. Whatever it is, I have the patience of Job doing it. I have fished until I got bed spin drunk at night after closing my eyes. The stirring waters and cork still bobbed behind my eyelids. There was a time that Don didn't like to go lake fishing with me. I could literally stay on the bank all day long feeding pinfish. On one such day, he sauntered over after several hours to peer into my red worm container. He dug a finger through to find that I was down to my last 3 worms. Contented with his find, he walked back to the grassy bank, stretched out and lounged, confident the end was near. I smiled, pulled out my knife and cut the worms into three pieces. Now I have 9 and another hour of fishing. I'm not an adept angler, I just love to fish. I do everything wrong. I jiggle my line, I talk the whole time and I'll hook myself and you too if you are near. Also, at the end of the day I do what is called stupid fishing. I thread worms halfway up the line, sometimes put a shrimp and a minnow together on the hook and I've used plastic lures soaked in shrimp juice. Once when I wasn't ready to leave yet but sadly out of bait, I threaded macaroni from my packed lunch onto the hook. I like cork fishing. And don’t' understand why it isn't done in the ocean. One summer we took a trip to Sea Level, NC near the outer banks. We were staying at the Sea Level Inn. I could hardly wait to get my Zebco 33 with yellow and orange cork in the water. Don told me several times "That's not the right set up for the ocean." He was right...... and wrong. I am on the hotel' s fishing dock before check in. My line wasn't in the water ten minutes when it whizzed out, I had something big on it! It jumped and splashed and we realized I had a beautiful Red Drum behind that cork. Don jumped in the water to help me get it up. The restaurant at Sea Level said that is was one of the nicest Drums they had seen caught there. The chef took it into the kitchen and they cooked it for us for our dinner. Delish. Our most recent fishing trip, Shem Creek Pier. Just glorious. Sailboats ease by the dock, they want to catch a breeze and so do I. Beautiful Hobie fishing kayaks ease beneath me idly trolling their lines while the lady fishing beside us has a fish so big on her rod that the line snapped. Dolphins ease through the creek to the delight of the boaters as two Manatee come to the edge of the marsh to feed to the delight of the pier fishers. Family pets sit at the helms of the boats while other pets stroll the pier with their owners, some lick our salty legs as they pass. The ocean, the creeks, the marshes. Pleasures are enumerable, unpredictable and unprejudiced. We pull in our lines, pack our rods and head down the pier. There's nothing in our cooler for dinner, no worries we say as we pull into Mt. Pleasant Seafood....Fresh Flounder!!

Friday, August 31, 2012

Truth? You Can't Handle The Truth! ~R. Brabham~

I read the most interesting article in a back issue of Charleston Magazine. I usually absorb and repeat virtually every page to anyone that will listen, how this issue slipped by me, I don't know. I vaguely remember a leaf through. Author Harriet McLeod interviews Jack Hitt. Native Charlestonian, magazine writer, author and one-man stage storyteller. I won't re-write her incredible interview, but will hinge this story on his answer to her question concerning his new stage piece. Harriet asked Jack "Your piece is called Making Up The Truth, What do you mean by that? I was totally mesmerized by his take on cognitive research of truth. And I came upon this article at a good time. I was dealing with some issues of truths in my own life. As an overly optimistic person, I was questioning whether I have spun positive webs around areas in my life that are in sadly in need of repair. And what is the truth? A few clicks of my remote and I am ankle deep in reality shows, warring political networks and anti-this and anti-that groups. Everyone seems to have their own version of truth. But, we have to fall on one side or the other, right? When I started typing this out two things came to my mind. Peter Frampton's lyrics; Do you feel like we do. After playing the song and reading the lyrics, I quickly determined that what I believed to be truth in the 70's, is not truth for me today. Our only commonalities’ being that Peter and I have both experienced drastic losses of tresses. The first part of our Declaration of Independence. We hold these truths, to be self-evident. The definition of self is singular, your consciousness, of your own identity. The definition of evident, means clearly revealed to the mind. So, add on the We at the beginning and there are clearly groups of people who each singularly believe those truths. Which also means there has to be another group of people somewhere that doesn't believe this as truth. Collectively by starting with We, our country decided to go this way and forgo the differences in varying opinions of truth to fall on the side of majority, but never intending for majority to be absolute truth. A while back I ~friended~ a very interesting and talented person. I didn't agree with many of their philosophies, however they gave me insight into views I could pursue to find my own truth's. A facebook post recently stated that they wanted to give heads up that they would be de-friending anyone that liked a particular participant in our November presidential election process. They stated the reason as being "That they couldn't possibly have anything in common with someone that supported the views of that person. It bothered me, not because they believed differently than I, but because they couldn't comprehend that there are more truths than their own and are not able to accept that the two worlds co-exist together. I am forever grateful to the inventive trail blazers across our great country. Can you just imagine what the world would be like if their ideas and inventions were thwarted by their skin color, religious or political beliefs. I have never questioned the skin color of the first person to run hot water over coffee beans. Nor the political views of the first person to ferment wine by leaving the grape juice out too long. And I could care less what the sex was of the person who dropped the chocolate in the peanut butter and came up with Reece's Cups. I love them all. In our muddled world of political correctness and blurry lines drawn in the sand, I believe truth and opinion have cloned. I believe the old adage goes ~Opinions are like as....pirins..take two and call me in the morning~ , or something like that.