Category Archives: iPhone snaps

Art seen

It’s SUBTLE!
So subtle, in fact, that I’ve walked past this site at least a half dozen times and never noticed it before!

An artist worked with nearly two dozen teens to fabricate miniature “ruins” within the recessed areas under numerous small rock overhangs and ledges of railroad cut for visitors to encounter new worlds as envisioned by the teens. Before the clays eventually deteriorate in the elements, visitors are able to examine the curious nooks and crannies of the rock wall, scouting for traces of civilizations from long ago to the post-apocalyptic.

Seen along the Atlanta Beltline.

Paradise Gardens

A couple weeks back I visited Howard Finster’s Paradise Gardens. I’d never heard of Finster before visiting the High Museum in GA and had been sort of plotting to see the place ever since.

: )

He’s probably most well known for the type of work featured in this post… the fact that I included such a photo in a post relating to a client’s mental illness tells you what I think about Finster’s mental stability, but anyway…

Rather than being turned off by the religious nature of his art, I think I like it because of that… it’s so improbable to find bible verses painted on bicycles, on Cadillacs, on windowpanes and random pieces of cardboard.

Sadly, most of his “good” art has been carted away to museums and what’s left behind at Paradise Gardens is mostly just the weird stuff, but I enjoyed that, too.

; )

I could (and may just!) do a whole post on the randomness of the place.

Mostly I thought I’d share these couple pix of the mosaic work I found throughout the garden…

Finster was a collector of found objects and a recycler extraordinaire.

Nothing there is very well-kept anymore, but that makes the beautiful bits that much more interesting, I think.

Sadie’s first adventure

How to lose a new dog in less than 4 days

Maybe she was bored. Or wanted to get to know the new neighborhood.

Maybe, disoriented, she was trying to find her way back to the shelter and a life she knew.

Most probably she was just terrified.

Whatever the reason, last Thursday she bolted out the front door, took a left at the end of the driveway and disappeared for good into a steamy August morning.

We searched on foot, on bikes, in the car. Despondent, I called out to her in unfamiliar places, my voice still unknown to her, using a name she hadn’t yet learned.

It was hopeless.

We put up signs. We waited. I walked the neighborhood for the tenth time. Shelter volunteers that had grown to love her in her time with them came out to help us look for her. Nothing.

Until the phone rang that evening and someone had rescued her, yet again. It was incomprehensible to me that she’d been found; I thought I would never see her again.

How she spent that day, we’ll never know… how she navigated two very, very busy roads without being hit to end up 3 miles away… how a Good Samaritan convinced her to stop in her running long enough to be caught…

I am so thankful for this happy ending and for this dog I barely know and already can’t help but love…

Sadie: starting over with a “senior” shelter dog

We sat in the parking lot of the shelter and very nearly went home without her, for a second time. Then we twisted each other’s arm and, just like that, it was done.

A new dog!

Some very basic and important part of me is made happier by having a dog. I’d been trying to deny that the past couple years since splitting with the ex-DH, but all the practicalities in the world couldn’t change that part of myself.

So… meet Sadie!

She’s 10 years old and a mix of perfectly polite and adorably unsure of herself. She’s cowering under the desk as I write this during a thunderstorm. Her first inclination when feeling anxious is to climb on top of something. She wanders around, following behind us like a houseguest that’s run out of tourist attractions to visit. She’s scared of cars and utterly oblivious to the cat who’s in a state of permanent hiss.

Nobody slept the first night. Last night we slept shifts on the floor beside her. For tonight I’m stil hopeful. Little by little her head and tail are coming up and she’s making tentative eye contact.

Who knows what her life before was.

Her eyes are sad, sad, sad.

We mean to change that.