Artistic endeavors

My heart wishes to one day reside in Tuscany. I long for it's incredible light, a truly magical light, artisans have flocked to for centuries. The ancient walled hill towns, Tuscany's rich harvest, the old olive trees and it's first cold press extra virgin olive oil. Greenish and fragrant, my preference. Through the abstract the hill towns of Tuscany form a heart seen from the air. Funny how my heart feels the calling... Since age three I have had a reoccurring dream of living with John in Tuscany. Reoccurring every October, refining the design details over my lifetime. I've even written a poetic fable of my desire and one day soon I will share it with you. Even if it is not meant to be in this lifetime I still dream... I still believe.

I faux painted an oxidized metal look to our dining room wall and inside the kitchens side and window wall. My painted wall's technique exhibits the colors that stir my emotions and gives me warmth and comfort. My favorite color is the nuanced tones of terra cotta and brick red. The olive branches in the vintage olive jar from the 40's give us a little bit of Italy smack dab in the city of brotherly love, faux of course. Throughout our home they appear, some in my hand painted branches on furniture, some just branches in vases and garland. A symbolic gesture of universal peace, ever since God gave Noah the sign after the flood that the water had abated, when a bird appeared to Noah with an olive branch in it's mouth.

In this photo I am directing you into our kitchen. Absolutely, hands down the room I spend the most time in. Truly the heart of our home as I am an avid cook who invents culinary adventures as fearlessly as I can. Crossing eyes, fingers and toes hoping they successfully turn out! To me cooking is just another form of my artful expression and honestly the way I show love to people I care about. My form of nurturing. 

This photo shows how I continued a painting technique into the kitchen that runs the dining room wall into the kitchen. A cream and grey checkerboard wall. It is actually 24x24 kraft paper pieces we cut down and I faux painted. We installed the squares with wallpaper paste to form the design. It runs the length of the dining room into the kitchen. John and I made a mirror from a trash picked glass paned cabinet sash. It is the 20th anniversary weekend (July 4th) of the mirror framed window. John walking to the bank spotted it on the curb on trash day and brought it home figuring we'd make something from it. We then crafted the frame surround and made an apron trim on the bottom.

On top of the window frame that John cut to replicate our doorframe I hand painted an olive branch. On top every one of those adorable miniature pitchers John and I over time collected on Sundays at our local flea markets.

A cast iron basement window gate my son gave me serves as our pot-rack. It is 200 years old and during a renovation in town some one discarded it for a modern replacement. Amazing, how someone would elect to trash the old for something new with no history, no legacy. We took it and had it chemically dipped, the metal is eroded which I enjoy, afterwards I applied my paint finish on it and John cut and bent all the hangers for me. 

The vintage from the 50's French license plate from Paris (the 75 designates that) is displayed behind the gates scroll work. I had originally planned to install it on our vintage Citroën DS Pallas car but realized it was missing the hole we needed for our 1972 model and purchased another one for our car and display this one.

I unexpectedly became a Poet on Jan. 1st, 2013. John and I headed up to bed around 1AM after celebrating New Year's Eve. During my nightly prayers (champagne induced prayers) I asked God for a new artistic endeavor, as I was once again feeling restless and needing to further express myself through my art. I awoke at 9AM with words flooding my head and instantly I knew it was time for me to once again pick up a pen. But, by the time I had gathered a pad and pen it, this mysterious journey of poetry had quickly vanished. I remember thinking wow that was a weird dream. Funny, but the next day once again poetic gathered words were racing through my thoughts and pulsating through my body and I was able to write/complete my first poem, seriously - my first poem ever. 

The creative process of writing was different this time around, because the words flooding my thoughts were rhyming and entirely a different emotional feeling and calling than when I had written a novel back in 1999-2001 "Destiny needs no rest". I finished it 6 months before 911 sadly changed our World sensitivities and understandings. Specially because it was about a special task force formed from the world secret agencies. My book covered the globe as it touched on terrorism, profiling, the witness protection program and discussed subjects that seemed too close to 911. Didn't parallel per say, but was close enough that I decided to shelf the novel. I even had after many, many, did I mention many rejection letters I was asked by a publisher for additional chapters to submit because they were considering publishing it. Although I honestly never wrote it for fame ... Seriously.

I painted a diptych to go with my poem below. Please read the poem and then view the close ups of my art. We have a 24 inch matte stainless steel picture ledge in the kitchen we purchased from Crate and Barrel that we alternate artwork on. Currently displaying my diptych of my poetry, each measures 9x12.

The poetry I wrote and share with you today is titled Abstractions. While writing it I was guided by my muse up above to challenge me to paint a diptych to express the emotions of the poem. An entirely new concept for me. Hate it? Let me know. Get it? Let me know. Understand my intention?  Please acknowledge it so I will know if there should be future poetry/art combos. So below is the poem followed by photos of my art.

Abstractions

For me it's a synergy, a whirlwind of ideas in different colors that arrive gathering in my creative thoughts like abstractions, often becoming a mind obsession. 

They awaken my senses and instantly I feel charged and alive, simply put, thinking in abstractions is the key trait in my ongoing artistic expression.

Emotions of sheer energy is what I intuitively receive daily, like energizing "whispers" that are heartfelt from a muse up above.

Gentle messages serving as my inspiration, mystically sent down to earth that encourages me to creatively strive thereof.

In my mind, color arrives and often times playfully collide, as if life expressions are whispered in a gentle shade of pastel.

But sometimes they arrive in vivid energetic colors that seem to shout to me it's message in a joyous life affirming colorful yell.

Realizing abstract expressions are often my next heart beat away and can feel like a time warp disguised in the meaning of thoughts lingering in the day.

Sometimes there are unexpected distractions that command my attention and cause me to focus my energies on other matters that lead me astray.

But even without intention or focused discipline the fulfillment of self expression is my life's ambition and driving force.

Clarity can suddenly appear as poetry or guided through a paint brush as my muse redirects me and I realize it's meant to run it's course.         

Throughout my many decades I have been artistically preparing to leave behind my legacy of my purpose driven life,

It's been a precious gift of self accomplishment while enabling me to sail through difficult times of strife.

© Vera

Two 9x12 brush painted on gallery wrapped archival canvas. I always finish all sides of my paintings in case someone wants to display it unframed. This painting is to demonstrate the synergy I received writing Abstractions.

This canvas demonstrates being swept into a whirlwind of ideas when colors collide.

close up

Hanging down from our kitchen beams are decorative lights John and I made. Two sets of them. We folded hand made art paper origami style and cut and put them onto strung White Christmas lights. They are lined with liner paper and then the handmade paper floats on top.

Enjoy a wonderful 4th of July as we celebrate our countries Independence Day. I'll be back to post in two weeks when I post about our vintage camera collection. Plus a little extra tribute.

XX,

Vera

At home in our soulful Row-home

After awaking today, I've decided to stay home, to joyfully allow my spirit to play and roam.

In peace and calm a soul can celebrate in it's own unique way, I guess best described staying home is very similar to a mental health day. So today my mind gets to sing it's song, one that is creative, happy and strong, for I truly know in this blissful day being at home is where I belong.

Join me at our row-home for a little revealing and sharing of things that make my heart sing in happiness today. Every morning we wake to our Hopscotch rug. It reminds us to remember to embrace the child within, as we walk to our Shoji screened bedroom closet. An antique Burmese Buddha from the mid 1800's greets us with positive energy.

Our Buddha from Burma has a rich developed patina and is carved in a spiritual teaching position. I adore how this Buddha has aged gracefully. 

As we round the corner of our bedroom we take notice of a cross designed by Doré Callaway of Burlap Luxe and smile at our vintage Philips poster.

A vintage poster purchased on impulse that brought a smile to both of us cat lovers. Simply framed in a glass poster frame with a charcoal grey mat cut by John. 

We recently purchased a Bowler hat pendant light, handmade from a real felt derby in England. We decided to put a Edison filament bulb in it. As it is not needed for task lighting, just as an accent. We have had a fondness of Bowler derby hats ever since the TV series the "Avengers". The British spy-fi cult classic. A television series created in the 60's, produced until 1969. I fell in love with the rugged trench coat wearing agent John Steed, the savvy Seville row suit wearing guy always sporting an umbrella. Amazed as he would spin his derby on his fingertips and glide it into place on top of his head with a pat. Oh and Emma Peel played by Diana Riggs ... OMG I wanted to be her. Sexy, cunning, smart and holding her own next to John Steed.

My favorite "Avengers" year was 1967 which included "Winged Advenger". We own the 1967 collected digitally remastered series ... And I am willing to admit there were times I was completely perplexed understanding some eposides.

We looked for what seems forever to find the perfect wooden sign to hang against the exposed brick wall upstairs.  I found this huge oval one many years ago on eBay. It is a hand painted double sided sign that hung outdoors in Wisconsin. Fanny Farmer was an American candy manufacturer and retailer that started out in Rochester New York in 1919. The store grew to over 400 stores then in 1992 it was purchased as a sister brand to Fannie May. Sadly in 2004 Fanny Farmer filed for bankruptcy and merged into Fannie May.

I try to collect things that have a sentimental heartfelt meaning for us. Fanny Farmer is a fond memory from my childhood. My Dad had two favorite stores to shop at when I was young and when he asked me to come along I jumped right into the car to go. One of Dad's stores was Finkles Hardware in Lambertville, NJ which still exists. I loved that store of curiosity that was situated along the canal. The other store was Sears in Trenton, Dad loved buying his power tools. Driving there meant we passed the Fanny Farmer store and that always resulted in having a little white paper bag filled with candy for me with Dad saying "Don't tell Mom". A sign very similar hung outside the building in West Ewing on route to Trenton.

At Sears we would wander through the power tools, the appliances and always the Television/Electronics dept. Sears was located in the city of Trenton and there was a multi level parking lot (free of course) to park in. Our visits always ended on the top floor at the hot dog vendors stand. Both of us always ready to enjoy a dog with French's yellow mustard, relish and a frosty ice cold Root beer soda. It's been over 30 years since I've eaten beef or pork but I still can taste those hotdogs on the toasted bun that spun around on a grilling rack done to perfection. In my mind's eye I can see my Dad's smile and pointing gesture letting me know I had mustard on my face!

Meet Harvey, a needle felted swinging bunny that was purchased at Easter time from an artisan in Italy. Why the name Harvey? Well looked like a Harvey to me. He captures the essence of playful bliss.

A new summer purchase for my sitting room, a starfish pillow from West Elm.

I love white pencil starfish and we purchased the wire basket from Crate and Barrel and this is where I'm displaying my collection of Starfish this season.

Walking down the steps you notice 3 vintage folding camera's and 2 photos from the 50's of Paris. Just part of a large vintage camera collection John and I own. I will do a future blog post on the collection.

Now we are almost on the first floor

I like to incorporate architectural interest in our home. I purchased this very old (said to be from the 1800's) barn glass-less window. It had a strong smell of musty age, OK mildew. I tried just about every suggestion to rid the smell. Finally a wash of bleach and water and a long day laying out in the sun saved this piece. I applied a white limed paint technique to it.

We hung it equal height to our Living room double hung windows on a delicate chain 3 inches away from the wall. I wanted to enjoy shadow play and it captures it nicely. The number 9 hanging down is our number that seems to play out throughout our married life. It's become our favorite number followed by 5 for me.

I admired this hand-carved Corinthian column capital from Restoration Hardware for the longest time. 20% off was motivation enough to recently purchase it.

We needed additional table space when entertaining and since I've always loved the idea of layering under surfaces.I placed it under our vintage lucite waterfall table. Looks like a museum piece ... lol

A close up view

Sitting on top of our Sapien bookcase from Design Within Reach is Christopher Mouse. A needle felted mouse handmade in Amsterdam and a gift from John. He playfully rests upon a book titled "Cat Crimes" my son had picked up at a vintage store and gave me saying "this book may stink, don't know, I haven't read it, but thought the title was cute". The book remains unread and serves merely as a prop.

An antique riddling rack from the champagne region of France sits at the ready filled with fine wines in our Dining room. Always ready to uncork a bottle in celebration.

A wire basket contains corks infused with memories and laughter of times spent with friends.

OH .. If these corks could talk! Want to know my favorite music? Well it's the sound laughter and conversation makes when it blurs into a fun evening. Oh and we love sultry Jazz playing throughout our house,

Summer time and we're entertaining with light refreshing menus. John bought this French galvanized bucket for me. What could be better than it filled with bubbly Prosecco and Pellegrino on the countertop. 

Close up, love it.

So in my playful way I leave you with wine and roses and Lavender from Provence and end with my poetry of Soulful Home. The Peach roses were given to me by John and I dried them.

XX,

Vera

All photos taken by me - Vera

Soulful Home

It doesn't take much cash to inspire and dwell in a soulful home,

where beauty and creativity exist and your spirit can playfully roam.

Perhaps perplexed but determined, you wonder what to do with your place,

aware it will take personal expression to make it your own unique special space.

Your home is where your personal style comforts you and proudly welcomes each guest.

Reflecting your hobbies and family interests as you lovingly over time layer your nest.

Why not incorporate ephemera like collectible memorabilia you have acquired,

let go of your worries and embrace your homes nuances and you will be inspired.

A combination of vintage mixed with new can mingle with high end displayed next to low.

Restoring, reinventing, up-cycling while envisioning a new purpose your efforts will bestow.

Try a composition of the past, present and a nod to the future to establish your look.

Personalize a corner into a cozy reading nook, relax, be inspired by a new decor book.

There are vintages stores, recycle and repurpose shops within a short drive right in your city.

Seems to me not exploring their items to envision potential possibilities would be a pity.

We all appreciate a patina that overtime develops it's rich character from a proud past,

honestly all it takes is a little effort to bring back beauty that will forever last.

© Vera

Conner and Pearl

Welcome sweet summer and beautiful blissful June! More weddings take place in June than any other month of the year. Just in the United States alone over 2 million couples are wed annually. I recently read over $72 billion is spent every year on U.S. weddings. Truth is, to me all weddings are magical and another confession, I cry at every single one I attend. John and I celebrate our anniversary in December, I wore Winter White in a month that less than 8% of couples exchange their nuptials in.

Phillipa Lepley is one of London's leading coulture bridal designers. Her Baby Olivia Hanbury Pearl dress simply put, took my breath away when I first saw a photograph of it. The Baby Olivia Hanbury Pearl dress has 80,000 2mm seed pearls hand sewn on. Exquisite in it's intended delicate feminine design. An elegant gown any future Bride can find inspiration from as she daydreams of a fairytale wedding, planning their special day.

I dreamed of a wedding of elaborate elegance,

a church filled with family and friends.

I asked him what kind of wedding he wished for,

he said one that would make me his wife.

~ Author Unknown ~

This photograph helped inspire my classical beautiful Pearl in my poem Connor and Pearl. I wrote it through the young Groom's voice, in the moments right before exchanging their vows. I hope you enjoy it. There is a tenderness, along with precious emotions expressed on a Grooms face. It imprints in your memory watching as he first sees his Bride on their wedding day. This heart warming reaction is the core essence of my poem.

I will return back in two weeks as I invite you back to our Row-home for a lighthearted visit. I want to personally thank all of you endearing Earth Angels that have either emailed or left a comment of comfort for me during my expressed grief and cyber tribute of my Dad. Your words were heartfelt and I sincerely appreciate all your kind words. Some sent cards with beautiful sentiments and below my poem Connor and Pearl is a photograph of a painting entitled "Grey Calm Sea". It is a gift that was enclosed with one of Kerrie Sanderson's water colored notecards "Broken Shell" along with her touching poetic words of comfort. Kerrie is a friend from Sea Cottage blog and her store Sea Washed. The canvas "Grey Calm Sea" Kerrie painted as a gift to me on the night my Dad passed. The Dove mini canvas is also a painting Kerrie did, slowly I have been purchasing mini canvas paintings of her beautiful art, her talent resonates emotional beauty in my heart as I grow my collection.

XX,

Vera

Connor and Pearl

At the top of the stairs everyone's eyes are focused on my lovely Pearl.

Pearl smiles at me and suddenly I'm dizzy and my head is all a swirl.

With each step down, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh is the sound of her Taffeta gown.

Her long golden hair is simply upswept and adorned with a princess tiara crown.

Her soft pink lips whisper to me "I love you", oh what a beautiful sight.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh down the stairs she floats in sun's bright light.

For many years I've dreamt of this very moment on my wedding day.

A promise for life, when we exchange our vows of I do, we will gleefully say.

Every single detail was anxiously planned by us for nearly a year,

honestly I thought today I'd find myself crippled by groom's fear.

To magically fall in love with a classic beauty and amazingly make her my bride,

leaves me standing here wiping tears as I am completely overwhelmed with pride.

© Vera

Paintings and note card by Kerrie Sanderson of Sea Washed

Photo's Pinterest, last photo taken by me - Vera

Shades of Grey ...

source - Google images

My Dad passed today, Memorial Day, May 26th at 2:44 in the afternoon.  Dad was in day 11 of Critical care hospice after a long fought memory battle with Alzheimer's disease. Today he passed with my Brother Kevin, his Jamaican angel (live-in nurse) Merna and hospice nursing care present.

Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most.

~Mark Twain~

It was nearly 8 years Dad lived with my brother Kevin and sister-in-law Gay in Palm Beach county, Florida. My parents moved from Titusville, NJ during a time of declining health and health issues not yet diagnosed. With the Northeast's harsh winters, trying to care for a large house with lawn maintenance became difficult for Mom and Dad. They could not continue their loving commitment in home ownership pride and they with great pause sold their home.

My brother Kevin is a neuropsychologist in private practice who specializes in Dementia and Alzheimer's. My Dad was fortunate to receive the finest care possible and 24 hour nursing care. Kevin promised our parents he would provide care for them at his home and never place them into a nursing home, a promise Kevin honorably kept. 

My sister-in-law Gay who over the years has given freely of her heart. She is graced with an incredibly delightful dry sense of humor and understanding. Now it is and will be just my younger brother Kevin and I who remain in our immediate family. Over the years Kevin and I have grown very close. Besides being my endearingly kid brother he is my close friend and my confidant.

This photo was taken on my Dad's 90th birthday on January 1st 2013 by a family member who with a other family members coordinated a winter vacation/visit to celebrate Dad's 90th. Yes, Dad was a New Years baby! John and I were not in attendance because we had our holiday visit a couple of weeks before. I have altered the original photo to tonal to demonstrate my entry of shades of grey. 

Dad's 90th celebration was the last time photographs were taken of Dad, sadly his health greatly declined afterwards, the real start of the long goodbye ...

source - Pinterest

I would best describe my Dad's parenting style as believing in the merits of strict discipline, allowing us to exercise free will, but as children we were totally aware there would be accountability for our poor choices! 

As a young girl I was convinced my Dad was the smartest man in the world. Seriously, how many other Dad's do you know who purchased the World Book encyclopedia's 20 volumes and read each book, cover to cover in under two weeks? Nightly after our dinner still at the table Dad would share all the amazing information he discovered in the World Book's. His enthusiasm became contagious to us, and afterwards we'd take down the volume from the Living room's knotty pine bookcase and read about his newly found discoveries. For me it was always the chapters about foreign lands and information about animals which kept me spellbound. 

Growing up we would turn to Dad as our source of information, yup, he became our own personal early version of "Wikipedia"! It is because of my Dad I feel I've developed a love for knowledge and truthfully I consider this the greatest gift my Dad ever gave me, thank you Dad.

Dad loved "Newsweek" magazine and would patiently wait for the mailman to deliver each new issue. Plus every day a new crossword puzzle was completed by him and know what? Even the New York Times puzzles were figured out without leaving any blocks empty. Pretty amazing brilliance I'd say.

So losing my Dad to Alzheimer's is truly life's irony. During Dad's last year he continually searched through his mind, frustrated trying to spark his memory. In stage 4 there is a total mind/body disconnect, robbing one of their memories and the inability to recall, relive and share precious snippets of time. For the survivors of loved ones of Alzheimer's weeks turn into years and the sad reluctant realization of the true meaning and understanding of a long goodbye.

Poetry allows me to write both observational and short story fables. I am ending this post with a poem about loss. Not just loss through death but about all encountered loss. The poem freely flowed and demanded time of me to be written ...  In June it will be four years of experiencing great personal loss of loved ones. What all my loss has taught me is greater inner strength and empathy towards others who experience all of life's losses. We all experience loss from time to time and it is through the sharing of our memories and peaceful acceptance we can recover and heal. As I continue forward day by day in my healing process I leave you with my list of lost family members followed by my poetic gathered words.

Source - Tumbler

June 2010 my Mother Vera slipped away after a long fought battle with cancer and it's remaining organ damages.

July 2011 my Brother Michael passed - a brilliant doctor taken way too soon.

April 2012 we loss Orlando, my Father-in-law, age 92 after heaven summoned him.

November 2013 my son Christopher suddenly died leaving his precious children behind.

May 26th, today Memorial Day, 2014 my Dad Michael surrendered to earths release.

Shades of grey

Loss often seems to arrive in multitude, each one colored in a different shade of grey,

I honestly believe in our heart loss imprints and lingers and feels like it will always stay.

When loss appears in your life it instantly becomes a thief of one's inner peace.

Symbolically you spiritually bear your cross and pray for it's gentle release.

So many shades of grey in loss...

As you try to attempt to process through the darkness of despair,

very quickly you discover it is what will enable you to soulfully repair.

Loss of a child or spouse, loss of a parent, a pet, loss of a relative or friend,

slowly in mourning you start to heal and allow peaceful acceptance to begin.

Loss of your faith, a loss of your innocence, loss of patience or loss of self respect.

Through soul searching you can re-evaluate, inspect and hopefully in time correct.

So many shades of grey in loss...

Loss of your health, loss of work, loss of life's purpose or a focused journey along the way.

Our losses simply get measured in multitude, in shades of grey that slowly unravel and fray.

Loss of a house, loss of your wealth, loss of precious little time, even loss of one's healthy mind,

forces one to examine and determine the significance of just how deeply we care is what I find.

Face it,  while living your life you will at times need to spiritually bear your cross,

while analyzing and trying to reckon the many colored shades of grey in loss.

© Vera

The Wildwood's, who won and my fable Wondrous Sam

Photo of The Wildwood's at the New Jersey shore. Wildwood, Wildwood Crest and North Wildwood are the shores that join together and form The Wildwood's. In this post I'll share memories. Memories I value and hold ever so dear. Some captured in photos or journals that I've kept many years very near. Thoughts of a day or times spent with family and friends, memories that linger forever in my heart and my mind. Memories that have magically formed precious snippets for me over my lifetime.

But first an announcement of the winner of House Beautiful's 500 Bathroom ideas. Elegant & Dreamy Spaces.

Kris from Junkchiccottage blog has won through a computer random choice. Please email me your address so I can send it right off to you wrapped with a bar of my favorite soap. Congratulations Kris!

I have been going down to the Wildwood's ever since I was young for a week long summer vacation every year with my parents and older brother. Now it's a 2 hour drive from Philadelphia to visit with my Grands Gabrielle 18 and Dane 11 who live in Cape May County with their Mom. Last Saturday spending the day with them inspired this blog post.. A tad bit different from my normal postings since this one is all about memories I will share.

You must be wondering what makes the Wildwood's so special. Well here are some praises and awards they have won. Voted Best beach town in America with their 5 mile stretch of white sand. (Absolutely no charge for admission - the beach is free). Best beach for family vacations - best beach for tourism and events and voted one of the top ten boardwalks in America.

Direct link to video

This video was taken on Thanksgiving three years ago. My son lived in a 4 bedroom, 2 bath townhouse ocean front property. John and I celebrated Thanksgiving with our family in North Wildwood for the last time because they were moving back to Philadelphia. With their house listed for sale they returned to Philadelphia so my son could find carpentry work year round. During the winter months the Wildwood's become virtually a ghost town with the snowbirds* escaping for warmer places and many business's close for the season.

But for me my favorite time at the shore has always been in the Autumn months. The sea with it's coolish breezes and grayish tones with white peaks welcomes me peacefully in the quiet. This video which hubby John took was the view outside Chris's front door. Incredibly beautiful and serene. It was taken just before dusk.

*snow·bird

ˈsnōˌbərd/

noun

plural noun: snowbirds

1. 1.
   NORTH AMERICANinformal
   a northerner who moves to a warmer southern state in the winter.

This photo was taken at near dusk by John just steps from Chris's deck. What you are viewing is Wildwood's Morey's Pier. The end of the boardwalk that ends in North Wildwood. The preferred shore for residents looking for a more private beach. 

Quiet and closed for the season, but for me with my summer memories when I was young I can still hear the screams of joy and fright of everyone on the rides. Colors of flashing lights, blurred movement and sheer energy to form powerful memories. I close my eyes and see it all, taste the salt air, can taste once again to enjoy the sweet pink cotton candy of spun sugar, sticky fingers and pink stained lips. I pause and relive my shore memories. Morey's Pier has 100 rides and attractions. Three roller coasters some steel, one steel and wood. The Great Nor'easter, The Great White and the Sea Serpent.

I remember a day in the summer of my 8th year, standing in a yellow with white polka dot 2 piece bathing suit. Eating pink cotton candy, sticky face and fingers matching the pink of my pale completion after a day of unprotected skin and adventure in the sun. Wearing, oh my, a 2 piece bathing suit that tied around the back of the neck and mid back with a bottom more bloomer like then bathing suit with a ruffle on the butt! Picked out by my Mom who thought it to be "very cute" resembling what the Copper-tone girl wore in the commercials.

I was out gathering shells in a sand bucket (red and blue stripes with white stars) treasures to display in my bedroom at home. My parents only instructions were - Vera don't wander far from your lifeguards station. As they took me up to this gorgeously bronzed lifeguards stand, golden brown curly tasseled hair with perfectly sculpted 6 pack ribs and a glob of white zinc-oxide on his nose. My parents didn't realize Wildwood's lifeguards rotate stations ... I moved with him and became hopelessly lost, alone with a bucket of shells and sporting a stupid 2 piece suit. Frightened? Nope, it turned into a real adventure for me.

I was finally reunited with my parents after a ride on a jeep that went up and down the shore line stopping at each lifeguard stand. Funny how our past memories become woven together to form tiny precious snippets over time. Thankfully all turned out well as I was reunited with Mom, Dad and Mike and I received no punishment since I followed my parents instructions completely!

My beautiful Grand Gabrielle started working Easter weekend at an arcade on Morey's Pier. She continues to experience and appreciate the beauty of the shore and continues to build her memories of the Wildwood's. One-day to share as her lasting legacy.

Dogtooth Bar and Grill is our regular dining spot with the Grands. Named after the Dogtooth Tuna, John and I first experienced Dogtooth years ago when Chris took us there for a Sunday early dinner. Chris over that winter had worked on a renovation in the restaurant and he was proud of his work and the quality of materials the owners chose. We fell in love with it's charming interior, it's unique restaurant concept, but also it's delicious inventive menu on that very first visit.

It is one of Wildwood's best restaurants, open year round. It's an upbeat place staffed with friendly and family loving staff. It is where Gabby, Dane, John and I spent last Saturday eating, like all our visits where we now have made a tradition of telling endearing and funny stories of their Dad, our son Chris at Dogtooth.

On every visit steamed clams are ordered as an appetizer and it is now an overly repeated Chris story I tell that mets with a roll of my Grands eyes because they have heard it told up-teem times.

Here goes my memory since it is your first time ... when Gabrielle was only three I received a panicky phone call from Chris. Our conversations always just started in that moment of time, as if we were together in the room. "Mom what should I do, is it alright??? Gabrielle has eaten 100 steamed clams!!!" Now knowing Gabby wasn't allergic to shellfish since she loved shrimp I just smiled biting the inside of my cheeks to prevent myself from laughing out loud. Mom, MOM what should I do??? My answer was next time buy more clams, I know a smart Alex answer. You see Chris had purchased 100 clams and while steaming and placing them on a platter Gabby was sneak eating them and loving them. She still does to this day, only last Saturday Gabby ordered Mozzarella sticks as her appetizer, it was Dane and I with the steamed clams. But fat chance I wasn't going to re-tell my story.

So over our many meals (it's been 6 months since Heaven summoned Chris) there are now no tears at Dogtooth just fun, silly and often times stupid stories of Chris. Stories exchanged about memories we had and hold ever so dear in our hearts and minds. 

Memories of our lives, of our works and our deeds will continue in others.

- Rosa Parks -

Photo of a lined Seahorse, the variety of Seahorse found in our Northeastern salt water. As a child I was mesmerized by Seahorses, I still am. There are 47 different species of Seahorses. The lined Seahorse swims in an erect position using it's dorsal fin for guidance. It has a prehensile tail it uses to grasp onto seaweed, grasses and coral for support. Dimorphic and grows in length to just over 5 inches and will live a maximum of 4 years. 

The Seahorse was my inspiration for my rhyming fable about memories of Wondrous Sam. A fable about observations watching a child grow up during the summer months in North Wildwood.

While writing short stories, fables and poetry a spark of inspiration no matter how brief will always result in often days of writing with me perfecting my words each draft. I hope this blog departure from my normal style postings has triggered some remarkably wonderful shore memories for you. The ocean breezes are warming and Summer is nearly here. 

XX,

Vera

Wondrous Sam

The love of my life isn't able to join me for summer vacation to enjoy frolicking in the sun and sand.

For he is a volunteer physician who is away with "Doctors without borders" in a remote foreign land. 

As a photo journalist I travel often on intriguing assignments, but decided to take a break from work to reconnect with the quiet of the sea.

To simply leisurely relax spending time at my parents summer shore house that was an inheritance a few years ago they left me.

Sun, sand and surf at Wildwood's shore, summering here ever since I was a small child.

An extremely hectic schedule had prevented me from any time off work for quite awhile.
                                           

For me the sea holds captivating allure, a true mysterious temptation and even perhaps the start of all creation.

I'm anticipating fun adventures, after just arriving to start my long awaited work free summer vacation.

My neighbors grandson Sam is squatting on the beach as he's studying a snail he's holding in his hand.

I instantly grabbed my camera and flew outside, before he could drop his slippery treasure into the sand.

His curly brown tasseled hair is adorned with shells and a Seahorse crown he's fashioned and wears like a cherub's halo,

I want to capture this precious fleeting moment in time of this radiant child who in bright sunlight was all aglow.

Sam's a very inquisitive wondrous little 5 year old, truly a sweet, intelligent and curious charming boy.

Just getting to know him fills my heart with overwhelming emotions of kindness and a sense of true joy.

The next day like every day that summer started with a knock on the door each morning at 10:00 with his shiny sun screen coated skin.

Together we would walk the shore line picking up shells as laughter and conversation would instantly begin.

Young Sam has his heart intent on one day becoming a marine biologist, as he is learns about life in the sea.

With every encounter he excitedly shares stories of all his discoveries and his enthusiasm mesmerizes me.

His favorite sea creature is the Sea Horse, who picks a wife for all his life and also gives birth.

Sam said besides the male Seahorse, the Pipefish may be the only species to do so on Earth.

Sam says Sea Horses are bad swimmers, they use their tail for support as they constantly eat and live in salt water everywhere.

He plans on becoming a marine biologist to save them from becoming extinct because that would be unthinkably unfair.

Sam is always day dreaming in warm sea breezes where the land and the ocean meet,

day after day he delights in enjoying the waves as they gently wash over his tiny feet.

Summer after summer, every encounter a sea creature lesson is how our conversation starts.

"Octopuses are intelligent but don't have any bones, strangely they swim backwards and they have 3 hearts."

Everyday Sam journals about his observations and humorously claims his pen contains black octopus ink.

Wondrous Sam is absolutely captivating as he tells amazing sea life stories that always end with an ear to ear grin and wink.

Two decades of summers have now passed, Sam gleefully studied Marine Biology away at school,

Then during Labor Day weekend I heard a knock on my door, there stood Sam in sea breezes that already had turned cool.

"I've earned my degree and have written a book "Magical creatures of the Sea", take a look...

On the cover was the photograph of Sam squatting in the sand, that 2 decades ago I took.

But reflecting on all those summers of treasured memories, it always comes down to this one,

Sam's boyish antics played out in the sun, with him discovering sea creatures was always such amazing fun.

© Vera

Photo sources Google images 1,5,6 & 7