This will have to be short. We were going to make an announcement this weekend regarding our Love Bead Safe Harbor Pin Project… then *wham!,* the storm met an open car trunk door, which met my hand… want the gory details? Didn’t think so. Anyway, I will be okay, eventually. The Project will go on, but the announcement will be delayed. For now, just know that (1) I’ll be teaching a class on Saturday, June 3 at SCRAP in San Francisco (more at Scrap-SF.org) on how to make Safe Harbor pins, and (2) I’ll be at several locations on Sunday, June 4, and more details to come in a couple of weeks.
Meantime, if you got a Love Bead Safe Harbor pin from me, or from someone who did and gave away one, as requested, we’d love to hear from you!
We can all be “Safe Harbors” for the people around us!
I never pictured myself becoming an activist, and certainly never thought of myself and the word “hippie” in the same sentence. When I was in kindergarten, protesters were the people on the news who shouted at everyone, and hippies were the people hanging out in ragged clothes who looked like they needed a shower. Suffice it to say that it looked as though the 60s had missed me — I was too busy trying to learn to tie my shoes. Looking back, there were things I did that were very 60s, raising mealworms to feed birds caught in an oil spill, for example. That was the start of a lifetime of volunteering, still I didn’t think of myself as a real child of the 60s.
Then I started hearing from people who were being threatened and harassed. Who were afraid, for themselves, their families, their friends, and I got mad. Normally I’m a cheerful sort, and it takes a lot to get me angry, but more and more, people I knew were being ridiculed and threatened. They felt isolated. Unsafe. Unwanted.
It was about that time that I heard of the Safe Harbor pin, an idea that came to the U.S. from the U.K. Wearing a safety pin was a way of signalling that you were a “safe harbor,” a person who would try to treat someone with respect. I liked the idea and started wearing one. Then word came that white supremacists were co-opting the symbol, wearing plain safety pins. That was offensive, but to whom could I object? Where was the place I could register my complaint?
So I took my pin and “tarted it up, ” decorating it, making it more flashy and flamboyant. “Good luck wearing something like this, asshole!,” I muttered as I added beads and charms. I posted a photo of that first pin, and heard from people who said they were now going to “tart up” their pins as well. I made more pins, fastened them to old business cards (perfect size), and started carrying a few with me. Whenever someone liked my pin, I gave him one. This created some really interesting and enjoyable interactions.
Now, I put two on a card, and ask the recipient to give away one, spreading the hope. I don’t ask where that person comes from, what he believes, what his personal life is like. If he wants to talk and I have time, I’m willing to, but the idea is that I don’t have to approve of someone to offer him encouragement, and he doesn’t have to approve of me to accept it. It’s a simple thing, between two human souls.
I have given away almost 100 pins since December of last year. Now, we’re spreading the hope even further. There’s a class scheduled for June in San Francisco on making Safe Harbor pins, and in connection with the 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love, I’ll be handing out pins in five spots in San Francisco. My goal is to hand out 500 pins.
But making 500 of anything takes time and money. My husband and I have been funding this ourselves so far, but to get to 500, I’ll be running a GoFundMe campaign (more details to come). Donors will receive a set of pins and sponsor a set to be given away. I’d like to give some away to centers helping at-risk youth as well.
While doing this, I’ll be putting my sculpting and other artwork on hold. Like I said, making 500 of anything takes time. Mom used to say that time was the gift so precious, people rarely give it to one another. So that’s part of what I give with the pins, a bit of my time, a piece of my creativity, a morsel of hope — and then hope that person spreads it, too.
I’ve been meeting a lot of new people lately, which is, for an introvert, a mixed blessing. I enjoy meeting good people, but I’ve been in several crowds lately. For an introvert, that’s a challenge.
As a friend pointed out, I’m both an introvert and shy. They aren’t interchangeable. The best explanation of the difference between introverts and extroverts I’ve ever seen: Extroverts get energized by being around people. Introverts spend energy to be around people, then have to be alone to recharge. I like people (well, I like kind people), but after a while, I have to be alone to recharge.
It has nothing to do with liking people or not. My batteries just get tapped out.
I’ve always been an introvert. Extroverted friends complain about being alone too often. They get bored and lonely. Left to my own devices, I grab a book, or paint, or any number of things. If an extrovert is with you, he might just want to be with someone. If I’m with you, I want to be with you, specifically. It’ll cost me, but I think it’s worth it.
There are more extroverts in the population at any given time than introverts, which makes sense. If the species tended more toward introverts, how would enough of us get out and find mates to keep humanity going? But extroverts can find it difficult to understand introverts.
Mark had a cousin who was a dear lady and an extrovert to her toenails. She was, as my Mom would have said, a “Y’all come” sort. Extroverts can not only handle unexpected company, they may welcome it. Introverts like to know what’s coming, socially, so we can be ready. Mark’s cousin welcomed us into her family circle, invited us to their summer gathering in the woods. Like I say, she was a sweetheart and I really enjoyed her. We rented a cabin nearby, but not too nearby, so I could get some alone time when all the togetherness was too much. As she welcomed us, she said, “Everybody does whatever they want. Relax and enjoy yourself!”
One day,I needed some of that alone time. It was great playing board games, swimming, hanging out with the family, but my battery needed charging. I was looking forward to it, with a new book to read and a really good grilled cheese sandwich to eat. Mark’s cousin (let’s call her Cathy) decided she wanted to take a drive to visit another relative. Extroverts like to do things with groups of people, as a rule, so she was getting up a group and invited me. I declined, politely, and explained I was looking forward to reading my book…
“But… are you all right,” Cathy asked.
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “I just need some time alone and a book.”
Cathy looked alarmed. “Did someone say something to you? Did somebody hurt your feelings? Who was it?”
Confused, I shook my head. “No, Cathy, I’m fine. Nobody insulted me. I just want to read my book.”
“Come with us,” she said, “you’ll feel better.”
“I feel fine, Cathy. I just want…”
She grabbed my arm. “We’ll have fun. Some fresh air and a nice drive and you’ll feel great.”
“I feel great now. I would just feel greater with my book.”
“But…”
I told her gently, but firmly, that I wasn’t mad at anyone, I just wanted to spend some time with a grilled cheese sandwich and a book. With that, I left for the lodge, picked up my sandwich, and headed for the cabin.
A car drove by the cabin, then it was quiet. My sandwich smelled delicious, buttery and golden brown. My mouth watered. Just as I cracked the book open, there was a knock on the door.
There stood Cathy, some of our relatives peering at me from her car. “Cathy,” I said cautiously, “what’s going on?”
“We came to pick you up,” she said with a bright smile.
“But I told you…”
“Oh, I know,” she said, “and I know you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong and that’s fine, but I can’t enjoy myself knowing you’re here alone and miserable!”
“I won’t be miserable,” I said as patiently as I could. “My sandwich is getting cold.”
“Bring it with you!”
“I don’t want to,” I told Cathy. “I want to read my book. Have a good time and I’ll see you when you get back.”
She took my arm. “Come on…”
“No,” I said, pulling free. Before she could object again, I stopped her. “Didn’t you say everybody does whatever they want here?”
“Well… yes…”
“What you meant was that everybody does whatever you want, didn’t you?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
I ushered her toward her car. “Have a good time. I’ll see you later. I’m going to be right here for the next couple of hours, eating my cold sandwich and reading. I’m an introvert, Cathy, and I need some time alone. If I don’t I’ll have to kill someone.”
She accepted it and left, but really didn’t understand. The next day she asked me if I was all right and was I sure nobody had hurt my feelings. But it came from wanting me to be happy, so I just took it that way and assured her I was okay.
Extroverts have trouble understanding how being introverted works. It doesn’t mean that we don’t go out, or socialize. If we want to do something enough, we will. If we want to be around you, we will. Then we’ll go home and recharge.
This weekend, I went up to total strangers at a rally and asked them if they’d like a free “Safe Harbor” pin. The idea of going to a huge rally by myself and walking around talking to strangers made me nervous, but it was something I believed in and decided to do. I met some lovely people, all very different, but nice, people who were there peacefully protesting and standing up for things they believe in with dignity and good humor. I enjoyed meeting every one of them, and I’m glad so many people showed up, and conducted themselves so well. It was great to be a small part of such a huge movement, and I hope the people who marched stay aware and involved.
Hi. I hope the new year is treating you well. So far it’s not bad from here. True, I have a cold, but those happen. No sense taking it personally. I get frustrated when I get sick. Long story, but I took a long time to get around to living my own life, so I tend to think I shouldn’t take down time. I have “too much to catch up on!”
But I realized recently that I can’t start from anywhere but where I am, and can’t start as anyone but myself. I am who I am and I am where I am, and if sometimes it feels like I’m not where I “should” be, is that a useful idea? So I’m working on not living in the past, or trying to live in the future, or constantly measuring myself or my life against some invisible yardstick. This moment, cold and all, isn’t bad.
A friend of ours just got her driver’s license. She’s over 30 and had never intended to do anything but use Uber and Lyft and public transit, but she got a chance at a new job and they need her to drive occasionally. So, nervous as she was, she faced it head on and learned to drive. She’s continuing to challenge herself, learn new things, and go in whatever direction looks best to her at the time. That’s brave, not to get stuck in a rut because anything else is unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
I’m learning new things. For the first time, I got hired to create the art for a CD cover. It’s not something I had done before, but I met with the musician and his producer, they liked my ideas, so I decided to stretch myself and learn to do a new thing. We’re all happy with how the final artwork turned out, but I admit, it was a nervous business in the beginning. I wanted to do a good job for the client, and my own pride in my work.
I researched the covers in his genre of music and gave it some thought — it seemed to make sense to honor the conventions of his genre (blues rock), but not simply be “one more in a herd of just that.” So we (yes, I created the artwork, but he had choices to make and participated in the creation) took a common theme in his genre and changed it up. It still fits his genre, but it won’t be just like hundreds of other covers. Still, could I pull off my idea?
Here’s one thing I figured out — most music is sold online now, which means a potential customer could first see it as a postage-stamp-sized picture on a phone or tablet. It used to be that album covers had to work in a fairly large size, that of an LP record. Then 45s came in, and the images had to work smaller. Then audio cassettes, now online sites showing pages of little “stamps.” The cover has to work at the size of, say, a tee shirt, and at that postage stamp size. I poured hours into creating an image that would be clear and interesting whether it was scaled up or scaled down. So I learned a new thing — to create artwork that works no matter what size it is.
I’m trying new media artistically, and trying new things as a writer. Who knows how successful it will all be, but I’m trying. Like our friend, I’m learning all I can and then getting in there. It’s like a roller coaster. Sometimes scary, sometimes exhilirating. I hope your new year brings you just enough of the right kinds of challenges to keep you growing.
We went to Southern CA to visit friends (and some theme parks). Through a cosmic accident/karma/God decided to throw us a bone, the compact car we rented was unavailable. The rental agency had a crowd of people waiting and almost no cars. Mark is almost always polite and a nice guy, and the rental agent asked if we’d be willing to accept another car — then gave Mark a choice between an SUV and a convertible for the same rate as the compact we’d reserved.
A black Mustang GT convertible. Yes, please!
We caught a concert (The Tribe, a group of musicians who perform to raise money for charity. The group includes session and tour musicians, so the people who make famous people sound good), and is invariably fun and musically satisfying. Our friend was performing (because he is also a nice guy). Such fun to sit in the third row, watching our friend perform.
Flash forward to the last night of the trip. Our friend was performing again, in a small, very nice club in Westlake Village, CA (southern CA), Bogie’s. I suspect either he or his wife dropped a word, because we were shown to a table in the best section of the house, up on the riser, a seat down from the venue owner. We had a great view as our friend and his band rocked the house, and then other talented musicians came up (including Denny Laine of The Moody Blues and John York of The Byrds). They played the music from the Abbey Road album by The Beatles, and our friend came back up to join them.
I’ve never been particularly cool, but then, I’ve never really tried to be. My friends are incredibly cool people, though, each of them talented at something, whether it’s music, getting kids to read, art, teaching, animal rescue, or any number of other things. They’re passionate, funny, intelligent, good people. Through them, I occasionally get to sit at “the cool kids’ table” now and again.
But the coolest thing is just spending time with them. As cool as it was to watch John Wicks and The Records from a ringside table, the coolest thing was chatting over Indian food in a small restaurant with John and Valerie, catching up on our lives, talking about music and art, and just being together.
We’re posting some video from the Bogie’s concert on Youtube. Here’s a link to their performance of “Liverpool 6512:”https://youtu.be/5H-cu0DpTFU
