Day #40 Whew! I'm home

I keep hearing all this flap about not letting people on the internet know when you're not going to be home. Well, I took that seriously, so for the past week, I've been blogging from my sister's place in Colorado. We had a fun time together. We talked, talked, talked, laughed, laughed, laughed, and ate, ate, ate.

(Beth Stallings Photo)

Bees in a hive are all sisters (except for the drones, who get thrown out of the hive once winter comes). If I had a brother, I wouldn't do that to him. I'd want to be as good a friend to my brother as my son and daughter are to each other. But, back to my sister. Diana is an artist who has created a series of fabric art pieces (quilts/wall hangings/and such) that SHOW what depression feels like. The series she created is called "The Ragged Edge," and those twelve pieces hung at the Walter Reed Institute the summer of 1991 as a part of their DART (Depression Awareness/Research/Treatment) Program. She's currently looking for a museum or a corporation to display them in a permanent collection. Her talent continually astonishes me. She was diagnosed when she was in  her forties, and has had twenty or so good years since then.

If you know anyone who is depressed (or who you think might be), please check out my sister's website http://www.depressionvisible.com/ and get her book Depression Visible: the Ragged Edge. I don't know whether bees ever get depressed. I would imagine they don't, but then again, how is one to know?

At any rate, Diana is a joy to be with now. While I was in Colorado, I took her to a meeting of the Pikes Peak Branch of the NLAPW (National League of American Pen Women). What a dynamic group of people! I belong to the Atlanta Branch -- an equally powerful bunch of professional women in the arts. It's a delight to be able to talk with creative, artistic women, all of whom understand what we're going through as we strive to create our art, whether it's through words, music, paint, or clay. Rather the way all the sister bees in a hive cooperate with each other and appreciate each other's skills. I was buzzing with energy after the luncheon on Thursday.

After the long flight home, though, I feel sort of like a foraging bee must feel when she's flapped her little wings hard enough to carry her several miles from her hive and back home again. Do bees ever hang their tongues out and pant? For that matter, do bees ever sweat? Who knows?

My flight landed in Atlanta at 10:00 pm, and my dear friend Millie met me at the airport and drove me home. Bless her! I greeted my cats, wrote my gratitude list, wrote this blog, and then pretty much collapsed. What is it about sitting on an airplane that's so ennervating? The lack of oxygen? The enforced inactivity? The proximity of so many overwrought people worrying about their schedules and fiddling with their electronic gadgets?

(public domain photo)

Why can't we people be more like bees and simply do our jobs without the constant worrying? Worry wears our wings out.

BEEattitude for Day # :

       Blessed are those who look while they fly, for they shall see the world from a higher perspective.

One thing I’m grateful for right now:

       My sister, Diana Alishouse 

Reminder: Check out her website to take a look at her art pieces that SHOW what depression feels like. While you're there, think about buying her book, Depression Visible, for a friend who is depressed or who lives with someone who is bipolar. I never really understood what my sister was up against until I read her book.