A Giant Makeover

Once upon a time, there lived a twelve-foot skeleton who welcomed people to his San Diego neighborhood. His name was Festive Franklin, and he stood outside his home. He stood as a beacon of cheer to all who saw him, including an artist named Sarah, who regularly drove by his castle.

Sarah noticed that he had his own Instagram (of course he did—he was the unofficial mayor of his neighborhood) and she began to follow his account. For more than a year, Franklin had been posting pictures of himself, dressed in cool clothes for each holiday. Being a festive dresser herself, Sarah was glad that Franklin enjoyed celebrating life. But for the last few months, it seemed Franklin was so busy greeting neighbors and visitors that he had forgotten to wear festive frocks.

One day, Sarah dropped a note in the mailbox at Franklin’s place. She offered to make Franklin a “2026” shirt to help him ring in the new year. Franklin’s mom/manager/momager texted immediately and gave Sarah the go-ahead.  Which brings us to today….

Franklin in his birthday suit.

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Blog readers, this is my first post of 2026. It is not an easy time in the world right now, and I hope this post brings a touch of levity to your day.  We can’t ignore the challenges in our world, but we do need breaks from stress. People need to smile and laugh, so consider this your creative coffee break.

Have you ever made clothes for a twelve-foot skeleton? Now, I can check that off my list. And you can, too!

If you want to dress a giant skeleton, you do not need to know how to sew. All you need is an idea. (Of course, you also will need stretchy fabric, and hot glue or fabric glue. But my point is, anyone can do this if they want to.)

Franklin’s mom and I texted ideas back and forth. She explained that you can’t put clothes onto Franklin the way you dress yourself, because there are cables behind him holding him upright. Any clothing would need to be tied in the back, like a hospital gown.

My initial sketch.

Over the course of two weeks, I chipped away at the project, after work or when I needed a break from my usual chores. First, I focused on a shirt for Franklin. I researched online how big the shirt would need to be, then cut pieces for it from a stretchy sheet I thrifted a year or two ago for another project. I sewed up the sides of the shirt, but you could hot glue them if you prefer. Next, I added decorations to the shirt, using felt, paint, gems and fabric scraps I already had. 

This shirt looked big. Would it be big enough?

Gems gave it some extra sparkle...

I wondered if Frankie might feel extra naked if he had only a shirt, so I decided to make him pants from the same stretchy sheet. (Online, skeleton pants measured approximately 93 inches long, which seemed really long—that’s almost eight feet of pants! But this was my first skeleton makeover, so I trusted the dimensions given.) If the pants were too big, I could cut them on site. They looked like they would be too large even for Shaquille O’Neal. I love Shaq. He is a giant at 7’1”, and he also has a big heart. Shaq often does kind things for kids and people who need help. 

Progress shot.

View from a six-foot ladder. 

How cute is he?

It turned out, the pants were not too big—they could have been longer! But we will get to that soon. I dyed half of the pants with green fabric dye that was left over from a past project. Tie dye is fun, and it felt like a fitting look for a guy whose name is “Festive.”

Once I finished painting and decorating, I cut the back of the shirt and pants, and attached ties made from left-over fabric. Frankie’s pants easily could have been another foot longer, but since this is San Diego, he won’t get too cold. This project did not cost anything to make, as I had all the supplies at home already, and it felt extra satisfying to create a lot of impact for free. 

Today was Dress Up Day, and I got to meet Franklin’s parents. They were friendly and fun and delighted that I wanted to do a giant makeover on Franklin. I was delighted that they wanted me to. Ares helped me dress Frankie, and held the ladder. If you dress a twelve-foot skeleton, bring a trusty person to hold the ladder. Also bring safety pins and clamps, just in case.

Franklin's green belt was supposed to be a headband, but I could not get high enough to fasten it, so we made it into a belt. Voila!

This was an enjoyable project for me. A bit of a challenge, but manageable. Sometimes you just need to do something that is a happiness-booster. Potentially, I can boost a lot of people’s happiness—not just mine. Anyone driving by will notice that Franklin is starting 2026 off with a festive look. If I can add a little joy to someone’s day, I’m glad to do it!

Making people smile or laugh has been one of my favorite things to do—for decades. As a teenager I did this through theater, and as an adult, I’ve tried to bring cheer to people through my art. I have been a teacher for more than eight years, and it’s been a pleasure to cheer on my students, and to give encouragement—a kind word, a smile, a high five.

So, from Festive Franklin and Sassy Sarah, Happy New Year. I will keep bringing some sparkle to my corner of the world, and so will Frankie…

Is there a project you undertook, simply because it sounded fun? Share in the comments below. Also, please send this to a friend or two. It would be fun to see how many people Franklin can cheer up. In my next post, I will let you know how many people we reached.

Til then, keep shining!

El on Wheels

Sometimes I talk to someone and think, Wow, this person has amazing life stories. I should make this an interview for my blog. My friend Ellen L is the subject of today’s interview. She’s a spicy transplant from New York, although she has called San Diego home since 1975. For thirty years Ellen drove a cab, and she always wears bold earrings and at least ten colors at once. She’s funny, independent and eclectic. I recently emailed to ask if I could interview her for my blog. Mere seconds after I sent the email, Ellen replied and said she was all in. And that should tell you a lot about this fearless lady. She’s spunky and up for adventure. Let the interview begin.

I arrive at Ellen’s house and she calls a greeting through the screen door. Her voice is full of personality. It has a little bit of a New York flavor to it—a sensibility rather than a strong accent. Ellen grins at me and her eyes twinkle. She’s wearing oversized, two-toned eyeglasses, beaded, multicolored earrings, and pink and orange from head to toe. We make our way to the back patio and settle into red chairs. The wind chimes are making peaceful sounds in the breeze, we start gabbing and our reunion begins.

Sarah C: I entitled our interview “El on Wheels” because you spent thirty years driving a taxi around San Diego and you are a senior who rode as a passenger on motorcycles for thousands of miles. You’re opinionated, confident, and not watching life from the sidelines. How do you see yourself?

Ellen L: Bold, but also calm, and a peacenik. I’m fun to be with and a good listener.

SC: How did you get into the cab driving profession and what did you love about it?

EL: It was 1978 and I had moved from New York to San Diego a few years before. My job as a bank teller was feeling stale and so I opened up the Classifieds and started looking for something different. I’d always loved to drive so I looked under “D” and found a listing for “Yellow Cab needs drivers.” It ended up being a wonderful mix of two things I loved: driving and interacting with people. My passengers liked that I was interested in them and they called me for regular rides. One older lady asked me to come into her doctor appointments as a second set of ears. I had real friendships with people I drove again and again.  

SC: Driving a taxi as a woman involved a degree of risk. Were you ever scared and how did you handle that?

EL: I had a few bad rides but I never let fear stop me. 99% of the time, the rides were smooth sailing. I’d take people to the airport or to their doctor. There were a few times when I got a sixth sense that something was off, like the time I suspected that a car was following me. I pulled over, and the other vehicle did, too. I walked up to the driver and asked why he was following me. He said they were searching for a bank robber. When the police removed the passenger from my cab, they found drugs hidden under the back seat. No one was hurt but it certainly rattled me, and I went home early that day. Yet, most of my passengers were decent people and I loved talking with them. The few bad experiences did not tempt me to stop driving. By my choice, my taxi meter went dark in 2008. Fares were becoming harder to get. Town Cars were everywhere, getting our jobs. I actually drove a Town Car for a while before Uber became available, but the transportation business had changed and I decided it was time to retire.

Ellen during her stint as a Town Car driver.

SC: Have you always liked driving?

EL: I’ve always loved being in cars. When I was a kid on Long Island, my dad took us on drives every Sunday. My maternal grandpa was a cabbie, although I was never in his cab. I am really comfortable behind the wheel. We took cross-country trips from New York to California when I was a kid, and so cars and travel have been a large part of my life since birth.

SC: You have traveled on a motorcycle with your husband Joe. What is the longest trip you took with him?

EL: We did lots of short trips, like from San Diego to Las Vegas or Phoenix. Our longest was from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, to San Diego, which is 1,600 miles and took four days. It was hailing in the Canadian Rocky Mountains on the fourth of July, and that was enough for me! Joe often rode his motorcycle to Navy reunions in various states, and I would fly out to meet him and we rode back together.

SC: Were people surprised when they realized two seniors dressed in leather were zooming up on a Harley?

EL: Sometimes, but people focused more on Joe’s bike than on our age. When they saw how Joe had customized his machine with 1,475 studs (attached with epoxy), people often asked to take a photo. Joe customizes everything at our home. His personalized license plates, decorations and mementos are everywhere from the pink front door to the back porch, which is sprinkled with unusual lights, funny quotes and whatever we find intriguing.

SC: Did you and Joe meet because of motorcycles?

EL: No, and he didn’t have one when we met. But he rode an Indian motorcycle as a young man in the Navy. He always loved tinkering with motorcycles and other machines.

SC: How did you meet Joe?

EL: We met in 1981, thanks to my mom, who moved to San Diego a few years before I did. After Joe’s Navy years, he became an appliance repairman. He fixed several of my mom’s appliances and she thought he was a really special guy. We both were single parents (Joe had two sons and I had three kids) and my mom thought our personalities would mesh well. Our first date was at Love’s Wood Pit Barbecue in Mission Valley and we had an immediate connection. We’ve been together ever since.

SC: What is your philosophy on aging?

EL: I don’t relate to it. We’re in our eighties but mentally, I’m eighteen! Of course, my knees creak, but I ignore the aches and pains, and I’m active. Acupressure helps, as does stretching each morning in our hot tub at home. I bike, I walk a lot, and I swim three times a week. I’m keeping the rust from settling!

SC: Were you always active?

EL: Actually, I’ve changed and grown a lot in my adult life. At age thirty-four I began an emotional, spiritual and physical journey. I’d always carried extra weight, and I decided to start taking care of my body more, as well as my soul. This was the beginning of my metamorphosis. I became healthier, and I learned to be more assertive. I began wearing bright colors like pink and orange, and became more outgoing.

SC: It’s hard to picture you as anything but outgoing. What were you like as a child?

EL: I was withdrawn, not a talker. As the oldest of four kids, I felt responsible for others. I got my sense of dependability from my dad, and my desire to help people from my mom. Starting at thirteen, I worked as a mother’s helper, babysat for neighboring families, and that summer I worked in a nearby day camp. These were great experiences and prepared me for becoming a mom. I married young and had three great kids: Shari, Wendi and Jeffrey.

SC: What was your hometown like?

EL: I grew up in Far Rockaway, on Long Island, NY, a small seaside town, where we knew everybody. Frank was our local bus driver on the same route for years. We rode with him to the beautiful beaches on the Atlantic coast. Our mailman was Tommy and our shoemaker was Dominick. We kids roller skated and biked and played with each other all day long. The neighborhood was very safe. We trusted all of our neighbors. I lived in the same apartment from age four until I married. I think that growing up trusting others, and believing that those around me were good, must have led me to feel hope rather than fear when I became a cab driver. Rather than being scared of the unknown, I trusted that things would work out.

SC: Before driving the cab, you worked in banks in Manhattan and San Diego. 

EL: Yes, I love numbers, so banks were a logical fit for that aspect of myself. But the banks where I worked in San Diego had a much slower vibe than the ones in New York. I needed a change, and the taxi gave me that. During my cabbie years I also began volunteering at the San Diego Visitor Center in Horton Plaza. It was so much fun and extremely rewarding to assist thousands of visitors. In those years, they had a short pamphlet from the airport, with all the flight times listed on it. If someone in my cab missed their flight, we looked at the pamphlet for upcoming departures. Volunteering was the same. We volunteers thought outside the box. If someone missed boarding their cruise ship, one of the volunteers found a way to fly them to the next port so they could board. Volunteering was about solving problems, and I put a personal touch on what I did. The center closed about eight years ago, but the group of us who volunteered still had reunions a couple of times a year. Once it is safe to meet again, we will continue our reunions.

SC: Speaking of COVID, connecting socially is important to you. How did you fare during this pandemic?

EL: We’ve done really well, luckily. I make it a point to get out, to be active, and to keep my mind nimble. Although the pool where I swam closed for a while, it has reopened. I continued to walk a lot. I missed the library when it closed so I began subscribing to the Union Tribune newspaper online. I printed their crossword puzzles and Sudoku to keep my mind energized. We have a few favorite television programs, like Jeopardy, Blue Bloods and Bull.

SC: Bull is about a man who analyzes potential jurors. I think the show feeds your appetite for learning about people. You’re not driving the cab anymore, but you still are fascinated by people. 

EL: True!

SC: Since we all spent more time at home last year, did you cook more?

EL: No! I’m the worst cook in the world. Joe asked me not to cook for him anymore! (She cackles.) But I do make a great vegetable soup and salads are my specialty.

SC: Your kitchen is beautiful! It’s small but packed with personality, with red countertops and backsplash, a red vintage stove, and red and pink tiles. Even the microwave is red. There are murals on the kitchen walls and ceilings, as well as in the bathroom. How would you describe your home?

EL: Playland! (Playland is an amusement park, built in 1928 in Rye, NY, near our home on the Rockaway Peninsula.) Our home is fun, comfortable and colorful. Joe loves color! There are personal touches everywhere. (She points to a poster made by her grandkids, hanging on the living room wall. It reads “Happy Birthday, Grinella!”)

SC: You nicknamed yourself “Granella” when you became a grandmother. What’s the backstory?

EL: I didn’t feel old enough to be a typical “Grandma” so I mixed “Gran” with “Ellen” and came up with “Granella.” Eventually the name changed to “Grinella,” which I love. I have four grandkids, Joe has four, and we have eight great-grandkids.

SC: Family connection is important to you. Before the pandemic you used to take yearly trips with your sister to various countries. Do you have a favorite destination?

EL: San Diego is truly my favorite place in the world. But as far as trips go, my first trip with my sister is memorable. This was twenty years ago, or so. We went to Budapest, Prague and Vienna, and stayed in Bed and Breakfasts in people’s homes. Meeting the locals scratched my itch to interact with others from different parts of the world. We liked the small towns rather than the touristy spots. I loved researching where to go and what to do. Other trips I’ve enjoyed include Ireland, England, France, Canada, Mexico and New Zealand.

SC: When COVID-19 is far behind us, what are you looking forward to doing?

EL: I am excited to do a siblings reunion again. My sister lives in San Diego but our two brothers live in Greenwich Village, NYC, and in Rhode Island. Before the pandemic, the four of us used to meet each year in different places. I’m ready for that reunion again!

SC: Is there a quote that you like or that embodies your philosophy on life?

EL: We create our own reality. 

Ellen has created her own unique reality, and she is living her dream. She’s happy, active and curious, and brings light and humor everywhere she goes. It was such fun to chat with Ellen and to hear more of this delightful lady’s stories.

Everyone has interesting stories to share--even the people who think they don’t--and I love learning about people: their pasts, their personalities and their passions.

Thank you to my fun-loving friend Ellen. You inspire me to be fearless, and you brighten my life. Keep sparkling, El!

Baby Boy’s Blanket

This is the story of old meets new: a new baby boy, a wonderful old fabric store, a new blanket (well, quilt) and my vintage sewing machine.

   The newest addition to our family was born earlier this month. My younger sister gave birth to her third son, my darling new nephew. Babies are born every minute, of course, but I always see it as a bit of a miracle. I’m so happy for my sister and her family.

Last weekend I got to meet my new nephew. He’s such a gift. I love babies. I love their feel, their soft hair, their tiny toes, the miniature hands, and that newborn baby smell. I marveled at the doll-sized socks and diapers the size of a postage stamp. How can such a tiny person be simultaneously so fragile and so strong? Our middle kiddo and I kept arguing about whose turn it was to hold him. Welcome to our family, little guy. We love you so much!

The baby’s arrival meant it was time to break out my vintage sewing machine again. It had been a while since I’d sewn but my nephew’s birth was just the occasion to get out my fabric and thread. I decided to sew him a twin-sized quilt rather than a crib-sized one so that he can use it for years, if he wants to. I love practical gifts, and this one is pretty to look at and will keep his body cozy. It’s like a fabric hug. There will be lots of real hugs, too, of course. They will have to pry him out of my arms.

The story of how I found my sewing machine is serendipitous. I found it in an alley, seventeen years ago, while I was riding my bike and exploring the neighborhood. Alleys fascinate me more than regular streets. They are the residential equivalent to the backstage—more interesting to me than the stage itself. Anyway, in the alley I spotted something that looked like a sewing machine cover. It was a beige plastic rectangle that looked a lot like my mom’s sewing machine case from long ago. I stopped the bike, opened the cover and saw a sewing machine! We were on a very tight budget at the time, and while I was interested in sewing, I couldn’t justify the expense of a machine. I had no idea why the machine was there, but I was thrilled. The neighborhood I was cycling through was one with a lot of older residents and I wondered if the machine had belonged to someone’s mom who had passed away. It was a Kenmore in immaculate shape. I raced home on my bike and drove back to the alley within thirty minutes. It was still there, so I brought it home and promptly put it in the closet. For years. I was excited to learn to sew but I was intimidated. I wish I’d pushed myself to experiment with it but I waited years before dipping my toe into the world of sewing. I’m happy to say that in the last ten years or so I’ve sewed many things, so I’ve made up for lost time. Eventually I Googled the model number and learned that it was made in the late 70s. Built to last!

The quilt I sewed for my nephew is the fifth quilt I’ve made. I’m far from an expert but I am proud of how it turned out. I chose to freestyle my own pattern, but there can be drawbacks to this approach. It has some mistakes, but unlike the old me, the new Sarah is okay with that. I’m okay with confessing that I accidentally sewed something upside down and this led to my changing the design. The result is that the zigzags make diamonds instead of being a quilt of chevrons. And I like the effect even better than the original design.

Most of the fabric in this quilt is from the Yardage Town fabric store near our house. I’m sad to say that it’s closing in a few weeks after being in its location for decades. But it makes me happy to know that my nephew’s quilt has pieces of fabric from that wonderful store, a place that reminds me of the fabric stores I visited with my mom when I was a kid.  

It’s bittersweet to say goodbye to Yardage Town, but I accept that change happens. Besides, I’ve got a sweet new nephew to love. I’ll focus on that, and on all the magic that is to come. Times change, and that can be hard to digest. But the flip side is that change can bring a lot of joy, too, like the arrival of a baby. My other nephews adore their new brother, so it’s a happy new chapter in their family’s life. Welcome, little guy. May you and all the babies experience the wonder of this world…. 

Wacky Wednesday #96: Sunflowers

Oh, it’s been ages since my last WW (nine months). But during the school year I teach art on Wednesdays so the chances to dress up in my handmade creations are few and far between. (I’m still determined to complete 100, but it’s taking a while!) This summer I had big plans to do at least several WWs. But the weeks have raced by. I’ve had a good summer, hanging out with the kiddos and the hubby, plus dirt-shoveling, weed-pulling, painting, gardening and reading. I also taught two weeks of art camp, so some of my Wednesdays were accounted for already. Still, I’m beyond overdue for another wacky creation!

Why sunflowers? A few months ago I noticed a lot of very tall, beautiful sunflowers in San Diego. Immediately I knew that this would be a super fun Wacky Wednesday theme. Sunflowers are cheerful, colorful summer flowers, and I love the variety in their heights and bright blooms.

I call this a hat but it’s not like it provides protection from the sun or rain, so maybe it’s a head ornament. Either way, it was my favorite part of this costume. I made it with pipe cleaners, felt, hot glue and a plastic knife. Yes, you read that right. I needed something lightweight but rigid to keep the flower from flopping over. 

Did you know that sunflowers symbolize adoration, loyalty and longevity? 

And who knew that the yellow petals and brown centers are actually individual flowers? There are as many as 2,000 flowers in a single sunflower bloom (and up to 2,000 seeds).

The tallest sunflower on record was over 30 feet tall, grown in Germany.

Let’s talk numbers. I always challenge myself to create a costume for as little money as possible.

Tank top and skirt (already had):               $    0

Artificial flowers (99 Cent Store):               $ .99

Felt for flowers and leaves:                       $4.00    

Pipe cleaners for hat:                                $1.00

Total cost:                                                  $5.99

It was such fun to wear my cheery costume all over San Diego today. People kept telling me how much it made them smile, and hey—that’s really a big part of what Wacky Wednesday is about for me.

I hope you enjoyed this costume and that you are having a peaceful summer.

Til next time, this is Wacky Sarah, signing off. If you need me I’ll be outside playing in the dirt…

Canine Fever

I never thought it would happen to me.

I think I’ve become a dog person.

I didn’t have a big problem with dogs but I just didn’t get why people went so…GAGA for them.

As I young child I was scared of almost everything, especially dogs. They were too fast, too barky. They moved too suddenly. We had a slow-moving cat when I was a kid—and I was even scared of him. So you can imagine my terror around a pet that growled, barked and charged. I had nightmares about dogs. Our childhood friends had a Great Dane (who looked like a horse to me)—a pet so large he slept on a twin mattress. His tail thwack thwack thwacked against me—almost sending me across the room. At the time it didn’t feel like she was befriending me. I felt like a wiffle ball and her tail was a bat. (In reality she was really a sweet dog--but as big as a dinosaur to my young eyes.) Eventually I came to be okay with dogs. I wasn’t scared anymore, but I just didn’t get why people were so nuts for these drooly, loud creatures.

In time I overcame my fear of our cat and I grew to like them. My parents had three cats over the years. I liked petting them and listening to them purr. We could sit on the couch together but I also liked that they were very low-maintenance. No obedience school needed. No walks required. No poops to scoop. No barking. Hubby had an adorable cat when I met him, and I loved her from the start. She was with us until our son was a few months old and then she went to the great kitty cat corral in the sky.

We badly missed her but I wasn’t searching for a replacement. I had a newborn and was busier than I'd ever been. Plus, Hubby and I realized that we both had been living with low-grade cat allergies for years. Fast forward a few years and I had a second baby, and then a third. For a decade I literally felt like it was too much even to keep a goldfish alive. My hands were full.

But last year our middle kiddo started campaigning for a dog. She had a really rough time at school (pre-teens can be a very mean) and I wanted to give her a boost. But I was torn. I didn’t really want more responsibility. (I’m a mom of three kids—in three different schools—and I certainly didn’t feel a lack of responsibilities.) Yet our daughter really wanted a dog and promised to be responsible for it. We began mulling over whether we could do this. Parenthood, after all, is full of moments when you put what your kid wants or needs ahead of what you want. (This is not an “I’m so noble” speech—I don’t mean it that way—but there are times in life when you really are weighing what someone else wants against what you prefer.) We agreed that a puppy would be too much work. But an adult dog? Okay.

We found a local rescue group, and started trying to find the right dog for us. We checked websites. We went to an adoption event. Hubby built a higher gate to keep the dog safe. The rescue group is good at trying to match each dog with owners who will be a good fit. They know we’re newbies, so they matched us with a sweet dog (aged seven) who knows at least some commands. I’m happy to say that when we met our new dog, I felt an instant connection. She was very friendly and so eager to know us.

I feel surprised at how fun it is to throw a ball for her and how much I laugh when she races to get it. I’m amazed at how much I enjoy patting her back and scratching her tummy. It feels like discovering a flavor you’ve never tasted, and then you think, Wow, I didn’t know what I was missing. I finally get why people are so into their dogs. Cats are wonderful but dogs are interactive on a completely different level. There is more give and take. The connection is just different. (And on a related note the shedding is different, too. In the first three hours she was here she shed hundreds of hairs. Our floor looked like a Dalmation: light with black fur spots everywhere. So do I sweep constantly? Maybe. But why bother? It’s like trying to hold back the tide: pointless. I’m debating whether to just leave it there and tell everyone we put in carpet.)

Anyway, I’ve been a sporadic blogger in the last year or so and I thought it would be fun to do my first 2019 blog post about the sweet girl who has captured our hearts.

Yep, it appears we are dog people.

Ready, Set, Draw!

Many of my blog posts are about my crazy misadventures. I don’t write a blog to brag about an allegedly perfect life, complete with airbrushed photos. Nope, I try to keep it real here.

That having been said, I hope this won’t seem like a brag fest, but I’m excited to share the news that I am a runner-up in a local art contest. Allow me to share the back story, because I always find the back story just as interesting as the result.   

Here is my cover. I didn't cover all the white space, but I like the contrast between white and the bright colors.

If you live in San Diego, Readers will be available for another day or so. I'm on page 15!

Twenty years ago, in my early days as a struggling artist, I picked up the San Diego Reader magazine every Thursday. I’d scan the alphabetical classified ads for art jobs. Every once in a while there was an ad posted for artists, but oftentimes there was nothing between Aquarium and Assistant. This was before I had a home computer, before Craigslist came to San Diego, and before social media helped artists to show their work. So the Reader was a way to look for work and to read about exhibits of other artists’ work. It was also FREE, and did I mention that I was a struggling artist? When you are a struggling artist and every single dollar counts, free magazines are appreciated.

Although I don’t search for art jobs in the Reader anymore, it’s still a magazine I look at for the local human interest stories and news about events in San Diego. It’s the offbeat cousin to the more upscale local magazines, and I love that it doesn’t cater to a privileged crowd. The Reader keeps it real.

A month ago the cover of the Reader was blank—literally an empty canvas, announcing a contest for creating the cover. As you know, I don’t do things half way, so I did not one cover but ten. I kept all ten to a color scheme of turquoise, red and yellow, because I envisioned all ten working together. At night, I’d work on my covers for a few minutes, and it was therapeutic. It helped me unwind. And I decided that whether my cover was picked or not, it was worth my time and effort because the contest prompted me to create something unusual and imaginative, and that’s always a good thing. I ended up submitting five designs. Most were abstract. The one they chose had a mix of designs, influenced by the Moroccan arches I love, and by Mexican tile design—with a dash of this and that thrown in.

Here is my cover, partly completed.

Yesterday I received an email that I’d been awarded a prize as a runner up. Today I picked up a copy of The Reader and I was delighted and surprised to see my art and name in print. (I wasn’t sure that the runners up would be printed.) If I counted right, there were more than 170 submissions. I’m okay with not winning the contest. It honestly feels awesome to be in the top five!

This is one of the covers I submitted. It includes nine of my ten designs, working together as a whole.

Will this change my career, or my life in general? No. Prizes aren't my motivation. But at the same time, I am feeling happy that my art has been recognized. It isn’t easy trying to forge a career in the arts. It’s hard to deal with the rejection when you put so much heart and soul into what you do. For me, there is no separation between what I make and who I am, so rejection feels personal. I’ve applied for many art related jobs over the years, submitted proposals for public art, and entered art shows and contests, and usually my art was not accepted. Being passed by when I’d done my best has hurt my ego—I won’t lie. Finding a way to make a living in the arts has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. So on a day like this, seeing my art in print, it feels good.

I hope this post hasn’t been too boastful. Believe me, future posts will revert to my usual subject matter of crazy moments and embarrassing tales. But I don’t think it’s wrong to share the triumphant moments once in a while. Life isn’t easy, and I think it’s good to grab hold of the happy moments and to squeeze as much joy from them as we can. 

Ray and the Coif of Many Colors

On their birthdays most grandpas don’t ask for exotic hair colors.

But my friend Ray Park wanted a birthday present he’d never had before: hair in shades you’d find in a Crayola crayons box.

Ask and you shall receive.

A week ago Ray’s wonderful wife Debby asked me if I would be interested in experimenting on Ray’s hair. Are Wednesdays wacky? Of course! I said, “Yes—I’ve been feeling an itch to dye someone’s hair!” This project brings to mind a twist on the 1963 song by Leslie Gore. “It’s my party and I’ll dye if I want to, dye if I want to, dye if I want to. You would dye too if you liked red and blue…”

My own hair is taking a break from the exotic hair colors because while delightfully fun, they take their toll on my hair’s health and Dried Straw wasn’t the look I wanted. Ray’s birthday wish scratches my itch to experiment and his quest for color. Win-win. This funny grandpa of two with the quick smile and twinkly eyes was about to change his look.

Ray in his natural state.



Raynbow in the early stages of coloring...



But let’s back up a few weeks. Ray had seen an eye-catching hair style on a musician and was intrigued by the colors in the man’s hair. Ray began to ponder trying something different with his own salt and pepper hair. But why leave out his beard? Ray’s beard is more salt than pepper (an excellent foundation for dye). As we discussed ideas, Ray’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. He envisioned rainbows, stripes and variety. When I asked Ray how he sees himself, he said he’s “evolving.” Although his work life was in science, his hobbies, including poetry and gardening, are on the creative side. His wife describes him as spontaneous, fun-loving and goofy. His personality is as colorful as the nickname he’s had for years: Raynbow.    



Perhaps Ray’s interest in a new look shouldn’t be a surprise. Ray has explored his creative side with watercolor painting classes, landscape design courses, and stained glass making classes, among others.  He and his wife sing with the La Jolla Symphony Chorale. So for a creative guy like Ray, a desire for expressive hair should not come as a true surprise. The only surprising part is that he hadn’t done it before. But perhaps the timing is perfect. Ray was inspired by the musician’s hair, Ray’s birthday was approaching, and Debby and I were chatting about hair color last week. The pieces came together. As I’ve said before, hair can be a canvas, and I happen to have a brush or two in my tool belt.



When the dye first goes on it's very bright. Once it's rinsed out it becomes a lot more subtle.

 



This photo shows Ray's look after the first batch of color was applied. We ended up adding more blue to the sideburns.



And so…to the colors. A few days ago I emailed Ray about whether he preferred temporary or permanent dye. Short-term options included using Kool Aid colors. Yes, the drink powder. It makes for bright, temporary hair color and has the added benefit of being very affordable. Plus, if you have leftover powder you can make drinks in less than a minute. But Ray preferred to jump in with true gusto and go for permanent color. We met yesterday to discuss ideas and today Ray and I collaborated on his new look. He opted not to bleach his hair white first, which would make the colors to pop more. “Semi-subtle” was his goal.

 

 

 

This week I didn’t do a Wacky Wednesday costume and yet I was given the opportunity to do a creative experiment nonetheless. Ray, thank you for asking to be my guinea pig. I’m flattered that you entrusted your hair to me and tickled that your family associates me with the kind of crazy fun you craved. When I’m a grandparent if I’m as fun-loving as you are, I’ll be satisfied. Happy birthday and happy hair play!

All in the Family

What’s it like growing up in a family of twelve? Busy.

Or so I’d guess. I grew up with one sister, so how would I know? Today’s post is a Q and A with someone who knows exactly what it’s like to grow up in a big family. My friend Diane is one of ten siblings. When I discovered this fact, questions instantly ricocheted around my brain. I had to know more, so I announced to Diane that I was going to interview her, and sweetheart that she is, she agreed.

Sarah: You grew up in a family of ten siblings. Where were you in the lineup?

Diane: I am one of three girls, and we have seven brothers. I was born seventh.

S: Your parents married young, and started their family the following year. Tell me about their early years.

D: My parents, Robert and Norma, married soon after my mom’s high school graduation. Mom was still seventeen and Dad was twenty. Their first child arrived when Mom and Dad were eighteen and twenty-one. In the next seventeen years they had a total of ten kids. The closest siblings in age are my older brother and me, and we are thirteen months apart, to the day.

S: When did your parents move into the house in which you grew up?

D: When my oldest brothers were small, my parents moved into their house in Paradise Hills, a neighborhood in southeast San Diego. My dad was a mechanical engineer at Rohr. My mom worked when her first kids were young. Once the family became larger she stopped working outside the home until we were much older. Although my parents didn’t come from big families, large families were not unusual in Paradise Hills in the 1960s and 70s. We knew families in our area with thirteen or sixteen kids or more. To us, a family with only five or six kids was small!

S: What was your neighborhood like when you were a child?

D: When I was very small, the neighborhood was mostly Caucasian, but as I grew a little older there was a lot of cultural diversity. We kids had friends of various nationalities, and we liked the diversity. My parents lived in the same house for more than thirty years, and they were quite friendly with their neighbors throughout the time there. Although our family does not own that house anymore, one of my sisters lives two doors away from our childhood home.

S: The house you grew up in was approximately 1,000 square feet, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Who slept where?

D: My two sisters and I always shared a bedroom. My parents had a room, and some of my brothers shared another room. Eventually we needed another bedroom so the garage was converted into a fourth bedroom, where four of my brothers slept in two sets of bunk beds.

S: Your neighbors helped convert the garage into a bedroom.

D: Yes, one neighbor was an architect, and drew up the plans to convert the garage. Another neighbor was an engineer, like my dad, and they worked together to turn the garage into a new bedroom. Many neighbors helped. It was that kind of neighborhood. Neighbors always helped one another.

S: Still, even with an additional bedroom, it was a full house. One man I met from a family of fourteen said they ate dinner in shifts. How did all of you manage mealtimes, and all the ins and outs of daily life?

D: Breakfast was usually a quick meal. We each packed our own lunches for school. All of us had chores, mostly driven by our ages. Before dinner, the younger kids peeled potatoes and carrots. Older siblings were allowed to cut vegetables. Mom delegated and she did the cooking, and as we became older she taught us to cook. Dad cooked, too. Whoever was home at dinner time sat and ate. We had a big horseshoe-shaped booth and whoever was home sat there for dinner. My older siblings reheated dinner when they came back from sports practice.

S: What about other chores?

D: In our house, when you turned twelve, you entered into the dish-washing rotation. I hated washing dishes! There were always so many dishes, and big pots, too. You could trade which day you did dishes, but no one got out of doing dishes. Eventually we got a dishwasher, which made a difference.

S: Speaking of cooking, grocery shopping must have been a frequent activity. Your family grew up in the 1950s and 60s, and Costco didn’t open in San Diego until 1983. Bulk buying wasn’t the option that is today. Did your mom shop daily?

D: We did go to the store regularly, and we always went in teams of at least two, since we needed two shopping carts. Sometimes my parents went grocery shopping together at night, as kind of a date night. But we were fortunate to have my grandparents nearby, and they had a huge garden at home, so we got a lot of vegetables from them. We considered ourselves lower-middle class—we weren’t wealthy—but we always had enough to eat. Occasionally we’d go to a restaurant, and I remember the Mexican restaurant near our house. To this day I measure all Mexican food against that place.

S: Did your family have a washer/dryer at home? Were these machines running 24/7?

D: Yes! Once you were in high school you were expected to do your own laundry.

S: Not only did your parents raise their ten kids, but at times there were also friends living with your family.

D: Yes, there often was an extra boy or two living with us. If a friend was going through a rough patch at home, my parents opened up our house to our friends.

S: Wow. They had big hearts. They died young but they made an impact while they were living.

D: My dad died at age forty-five, when I was thirteen. He’d had heart problems. Mom died at fifty-two. Both were amazing. They had tons of patience, and they had great senses of humor.

S: You are an involved, patient mom of two. Do you approach parenting in some of the ways your parents did?

D: My parents were more patient than I am. I guess they had to be! But yes, the two biggest lessons I learned from them were to be patient, and to try to find a way to laugh about the tough things in life. They were encouraging and always supportive. Even when they were mad at us, we always felt loved.

S: With ten kids, how did your family celebrate birthdays?

D: Growing up, we celebrated each child’s birthday, sometimes with a party, sometimes with a family dinner at home with cake. Once we were older we started gathering monthly to celebrate all birthdays in that month.

S: Do any of your siblings have their own large families now?

D: The most any of us has is four kids.

S: How many of the ten siblings still live in this area?

D: Seven of us do. Some of us get together regularly to play low-stakes poker. We play nickel-dime-quarter. I actually learned to play when I was a child, so this is not only fun, but it’s also a connection to the family in which I was raised.

S: Are there other special items or traditions that have been passed down through the family?

D: Two stories come to mind. The first is funny. When I was small Mom made meatloaf a lot, but it wasn’t something I liked. Oddly, my sister makes meatloaf now, using the very same recipe Mom used--and I love my sister’s meatloaf! The second story is about my mom’s china. She had service for twelve, which my parents spent years collecting. When Mom passed away my older sister inherited the china and she enjoyed using it for years. But she recently gave it to me. I’m looking forward to using it for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and one day I’ll pass on my mom’s china to my daughter.

S: It’s a common belief that the youngest child gets away with more than the oldest, or that rules became more relaxed over time. Did this seem true in your family?

D: My older brothers remember our parents being stricter with them, although my parents believed they parented each of us the same way!

S: I’m interested in birth order and how it shapes each person’s personality. But birth order stereotypes only go so far when there are eight middle children.

D: Yes. Middle kids are often peacemakers. Sometimes I fit the peacemaker role but other times it wasn’t me. The dynamic shifted a lot as we grew. 

S: Were all the kids expected to share toys and clothes with siblings? Were there items that clearly were yours—ones that you were not urged to share?

D: Most things were shared but we each had some things that were our own. You learned to find a safe spot to put something special. When we were teens, my sisters and I shared clothes and shoes. We each had our own but sharing was an affordable way to triple our wardrobe.

S: What were the biggest challenges in a family of twelve? Was getting individual attention hard?

D: Actually, my parents somehow found a way to give each of us regular one-on-one attention. I never felt lost in the shuffle. All of us kids did sports, and at least one of our parents made a point to watch at least part of each of our games. The biggest challenges in a family of our size were practical issues like getting shower time, or a ride to practice, or access to the washing machine.

S: How does a family of twelve keep things organized? I misplace things regularly and I have three kids—not ten! Were you parents really tidy?

D: Certain things needed to be put back exactly in their place—like Dad’s tools. With a lot of other things we just did what we could. You were responsible for your own things, but there were plenty of mornings when someone couldn’t find their shoes!

S: Getting a lot of kids out the door to school each morning must have been a challenge. Was your school walking-distance?

D: Yes. We walked a lot. School was nearby. Baseball practice was walking-distance. High school wasn’t close enough to walk to but as kids we walked a lot or rode bikes.

S: I did a little research about large families (defined as having six or more children). Online, there are a lot of theories about kids from large families being at a disadvantage (especially as far as parents’ attention and finances). But one article online pointed out that children in large families have notable advantages. They learn cooperation at an early age (as compared with children in smaller families) because they must learn to get along with many siblings. Children in large families learn responsibility for themselves and often for younger brothers and sisters. These children also tend to have an easier time adapting to change. (http://psychology.jrank.org/pages/237/Family-Size.html) Do you think you are flexible in terms of change?

 

D: Yes. I do think I’m adaptable to change and I know it’s because we had to be flexible. From the very beginning we learned to compromise, to share and to get along.

 

S: What are other advantages of being part of a large family?

D: We always had a playmate around. There was always someone to help you if you needed it. Sometimes the disadvantages annoyed me: like my older siblings making me play games they wanted to play. But the advantages far outweighed the challenges. There was a lot of camaraderie. My brothers also taught us girls to play sports and we became good because we were practicing with bigger, more experienced kids.

S: What is your favorite memory of growing up in your family?

D: Christmas holds happy, funny memories. Our extended family always came to our house, and everyone piled in. Our dad came up with a tradition for opening Christmas gifts. He’s start with the youngest child, who was required to sing a few lines from a Christmas song before being allowed to open a present. Then, the second youngest would sing part of a different Christmas song before getting to open a gift. And so on. Everyone had to sing a different Christmas song, and this became funnier with each child as we tried to think of a song that hadn’t been sung yet. I think Dad devised this plan to slow things down on Christmas, so that it wasn’t just complete chaos. His tradition forced us to focus on one thing at a time and while it took ages to get through the gifts, there was something fun and special about the system, too. Life was hectic at times, absolutely. But I have many happy memories of growing up in my family….