Last spring I started getting concerned messages from friends and fans. Something was wrong with the website that I had had up for over a decade. They were getting dire warnings that the site might harm computers! I contacted my webmistress and she, in turn, tried to get in touch with the administrator of the server that hosted it along with many other websites. There had been a cyber attack. It was successfully repelled, and the server was back up and running. Unfortunately, my site still had the warning messages that would have to be cleared manually by my webmistress, or by the administrator of the server. And there was the snag. My webmistress could not find the password she had used when she created the site, and the administrator, faced with a family medical emergency, was not responding to our urgent pleas for help. Finally, my webmistress gave me the bad news: I would have to start over from scratch. Worse, she was no longer doing website building, so I was on my own.

I started doing research, looking for the best, quickest way to get a new website up and running. All through July and into August, I spent hours trying out various site building formats, researching the costs of having a site rebuilt for me, wondering if I could learn to write code, and mostly, pulling my hair out.

Then, in early September, my husband and I got the phone call that is every parent's nightmare. Our middle daughter, Erika, had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage while attending an art festival in the Nevada desert called "Burning Man."  She was on life support, but there was no hope of recovery. At 33 years of age, our beautiful, vibrant, smart, funny, precious girl would never again fly home for a visit, call on the phone to catch up, post cute photos and captions on her Facebook pages, or work on maintaining her reputation as the best auntie in the world. This tall, slender fashion plate who had just received international certification as an expert on wine, and who had never missed a single Christmas with her family, had left us without warning. Her crazily active life working in the wine industry in lovely Napa, California, had come to an abrupt and unexpected end. There are no words to describe how it feels to lose someone you love so dearly, someone who has been an integral part of your life, a member of your family, a piece of your heart, for all those years. Her sisters, her grandmother, her aunts and uncles and cousins and many, many friends, were all in a state of shock. Her amazingly sweet and devoted boyfriend had been with her for the week long festival, something they had been looking forward to experiencing together. We were so grateful to know that they'd had a truly magnificent time that week, riding bikes all over the huge venue that is this festival, attending all kinds of classes and meeting tons of interesting people. Because he was with her, medical help was quickly summoned when she fell ill, and within half an hour she was being airlifted to a hospital in Reno. Even though they could not save her life, they were able to stabilize her, thus enabling her organs to remain healthy. Erika was a registered organ donor, and as I write this, we have had word that at least four people are living better lives because of the gifts she left to them. They include a 17 year old boy who received a kidney, a 32 year old who may not have to have dialysis thanks to a new pancreas as well as the other kidney. A 49 year old father of three now has a life-saving liver, and another person can breathe now because of her lungs. She could not use them any more, so it is a comfort to know that others could.

Now, some six weeks after we first learned of her death, her dad and I, her sisters, and  friends all over the country, continue to struggle to accept this new world that she is no longer physically a part of. We all know that she is fine, off on her latest and greatest adventure yet.  But she left a huge gap behind, one that will take a lot of time and tears to fill.

As I have grappled with my sorrow, I have found solace in painting. It's something many people have shared with me over the years, and now I am experiencing it first hand. Creativity is a balm that helps to soothe troubled thoughts and allows the mind to rest. Making something beautiful when the world seems suddenly so dark, really does help. So do prayers. I have experienced the power of being lifted up in the midst of despair, and I can tell you that it makes a world of difference. My family and I welcome your prayers.

Never miss an opportunity to tell the people you love how much they mean to you, and try not to lose sight of the fact that each day we have is a gift.

Rock on,
Lin



The newsletter below was one I had written and was ready to post when my website went down. Please look on the pages marked Free Projects to see the Baby Bluebirds I mention in it.


Rock Art Newsletter

 

Spring/Summer 2011

It's been an odd, up and down season weather-wise here in the Ozark Mountains of NW Arkansas. The devastating Joplin tornados happened about 60 miles from where I live, along with smaller ones on our side of the border. We had warm weather early, then cold and rain for weeks on end, followed by more blast-furnace temps. We've been watching with sorrow as states north and east of us cope with flooding.

This year, Wandra and T Joe Dees hosted the 12th annual rock painter's get-together at their house near Table Rock Lake near Golden, MO. In the past, it took place in June, but it's been so warm then that they asked if we could reschedule to May. We had a good crowd join us to collect rocks at our favorite spot, followed by an evening and full day of painting. Sure didn't have to worry about heat! It got so chilly that T Joe lighted a fire in the wood-burning stove that heats the boathouse-turned- painting studio. More that 30 people filled the chairs set up along tables set up for the gathering. It was great to see Emma and her husband join us again from Chicago, and Kathleen who watches over the rock painting group on yahoo, along with many other friends who've attended previous get-togethers and some new painters as well. We had many people drop by to see what we were doing. A lot of them sat down and did some painting as well.

Our theme had to do with letting creativity take flight, so it seemed the perfect time to share a project that had been sent to me some time back from rock painter Judith Roderick from Placitas, New Mexico. But wouldn't you know it, I could not find the envelope with her stepped out instructions for painting an adorable baby bluebird. After hours of searching, I gave up and tried my best to replicate her design from memory.

I conducted an informal class, which met with great success. If you haven't seen the picture of the basket of baby bluebirds we painted on the group site, go to www.groups.yahoo.com/group/rockpainting to see it.

Naturally, I found Judith's envelope almost as soon as I got home from our party, and saw that my memory of her design was not very close. Judith uses her little bluebird rocks to cheer people up, and they truly are charming little works of art. She had sent me the project and gave her permission to share it with others. I'm going to include a link to my stepped out instruction sheet as well as a second sheet with Judith's design. Feel free to paint your own bluebirds from either sheet, or perhaps come up with your own version.

Summer is a great time to spend time painting with friends and family. Many a rainy vacation day can turn into the perfect opportunity to get creative. Reunions, birthdays and slumber parties can all be excellent times to introduce new people to the art of painting on rocks. Encourage bored kids to paint enough rock art to stock a rock art gallery and invite neighbors and grandparents to a showing. What about setting up a rock art stand  along with the traditional lemonade stand?

Don't forget that creativity is an excellent way to deal with depression and chronic illness, too. The techniques you learn from painting rocks can be transferred to other art forms, and I always encourage people to explore any creative outlet that may interest them.

I hope you enjoy painting baby bluebirds, and that perhaps you'll be inspired by Judith to come up with new designs of your own.

Rock on!

Lin Wellford