Jewelry, Seer, Photography, Drawing, Knitting, Creativity baby!
My Grandfather, Refugio Hernandez brought his wife and five daughters to the United States from Mexico in 1927 and settled in Richmond, California. He worked for the Santa Fe railroad. My Mom was 7 years old at the time. She missed her home town of Penjamo, Guanajuato pretty much her whole life. She would share stories about taking baths in the river, her cousins, her uncles and aunts. Although she missed all she ever knew at the age of seven, she loved going to school and learning English.
My Mom had a total of seven children and taught none of us Spanish. Her first four children were lucky to hear it spoken because of my Grandmother. Unfortunately, us last three didn’t because Grandma died when I was one. My oldest four siblings, two brothers and two sisters were from a different Father. The next two, a brother and sister were from a different Father. Me being the last, the baby by another Father.
She met my Father while she was working for his sister Lucy at La Palma in Richmond. When she married my Father she was told by his family that he was already married to a woman in Mexico, so she couldn’t be my Father’s wife. My Mother stayed with my Father and we all lived together for a short time. My Father was an alcoholic and left us because he didn’t want to hurt me or my siblings with his behavior from being drunk. He died when I was three years old.
As a baby girl I would see Spirits coming out of the closet. I would yell for my mother and she would tell me to shut up. The Spirits eventually stopped visiting me because of the yelling and anguished that it caused me. My mom would get mad at my brother David thinking that he was teasing me. He would tease me a lot, one day he was playing with matches in my room while I was in my crib that my Father had made. All of a sudden a fire broke out in my crib and my sister Rosalie had to save us and the fire department came to our house. My beautiful crib was ruined. To this day, my brother David still teasing all of us.
As strange as it may sound my earliest memory was the day President Kennedy was assassinated. I was 5 years old it was 1963. It was in the afternoon, I was let out of Kindergarten class and sent home. I didn’t want to go home I loved school. We lived right across the street from the elementary school. When I walked into the class I was confused about what was going on. My Mom was upset because our President was killed. The black and white television was on, I think there was only an ABC and CBS station. Walter Cronkite announcing that the Nation was in mourning. Showing over and over again the shooting. I was so sensitive that I began to cry. I don’t remember if any one teased me about it on that day.
My Mom raised us in the Catholic faith. My sister Jennie, David, my niece Mary and I would take the bus to catechism after school twice a week. I hated it. I didn’t like the way the nuns treated my niece, they were mean to her. She didn’t know her lessons and perhaps didn’t believe either? and because of it they would hit her. I remember seeing her walk out of her class crying. That would upset me we were all little children. Jesus loved us, they would tell us. This was how they represented this Love, God’s love?
These actions made me questioned the doctrine as a young child. I didn’t believe that I had any sins as 7-year-old. I didn’t like sitting in the darkness waiting for Priest to open the window to ask me, how long has it been since your last confession? Really how many 7 year olds sin? What is a sin? Why does the church have to make you afraid of God? I didn’t believe that if a baby died and wasn’t baptized it wouldn’t go to heaven. We had to go to confession every Saturday so we could take communion on Sunday during mass.
~ I am writing this book about Who I am. Danny is helping me with grammar and keeping me from choppy sentences and thoughts.
I sit at my laptop. I’m drinking my 1st cup of coffee in my recliner. Thoughts are streaming through my mind and I remembered that I have a blog on WordPress. Hmmm let me see what is my login, it’s been so long since I’ve written here. At some point I’ve decided to focus on using Facebook to communicate socially. On Facebook I have separate pages for my jewelry, my art and my spirit; a public facebook page and a personal one.
I may be setting up a table at the Richmond Art Center this holiday season for my jewelry. I love creating jewelry and selling my designs. My bead room is cluttered not only with bead supplies, but with canvases, paints, plastic containers of Mary Kay products and my Canon 5d Mark III camera, Manfrotto tripod, and Pelican camera case which lays on the floor and the table amongst the chaos.
As with my separate facebook pages perhaps I need a room for each hobby to be better organized. A studio would be nice. Hah! who am I kidding, I would have that cluttered up in no time as well.
I’m drinking my second and last cup of coffee. The sun is shining through the window in between the pine tree branches blinding my eyes. I situate my body to avoid the brightness.
The light is ambient a very good time to go get my camera. But instead I remember I need to focus my attention on editing the photos that I recently took using Lightroom.
Photo taken from a balcony room at the Hilton -Union Square.
It’s been a while since I’ve written on my blog. I’ve been working.
A couple of times I thought Oh I need to write on my blog. But didn’t make the time.
Yesterday I thought Ok I’m going to share a few photos of my new jewelry designs. I searched on bookmarks for my wordpress blog but I couldn’t remember what my user name was or password. Ok so it is not going to be today that I share those photos.
Today I went to my great niece’s birthday took photos of her and all of us there. When I got home I went on my facebook page to check out my news feed. I visited my twitter feed. Then, I went back to my facebook news feed and saw a very interesting post from OM-Times Magazine about a guy name Erik who committed suicide and his Mom wrote a book about him contacting her from the other side. She started a blog and I remembered Yes, I wanted to write on my blog.
So then I realized I have time so do it now, I signed on and said I forgot my password but first had to figure out my user name and reset my password. Now I’ve saved them both for the next time that I forget.
Oh yes, My blog will never been as interesting as the Mom who wrote about her son’s suicide. So let me share that I purchased the book written by Elisa Medhus and the title of the book is My Son and the Afterlife. I’ve also subscribed to her blog, channelingerik.com.
So now here are a few of my jewelry designs.
My website is http://handmadeartists.com/shop/hija4. Visit.
We see and we watch. Light flickers around until it’s so bright we can’t see any shadow.
I’m enjoying what my Eye Cs at the end of my camera lens. To see more of my flowers go to http://raquel-amaral.artistwebsites.com I’d love to read your comments.
Love horses. I’ve never ridden one and don’t desire too. But their energy is so calm and loving.
I drive to the park during my lunch and pass a field where two horses are in their stables. Once parked I eat my lunch and take a walk.
My horses love to talk and pose for the camera.
Can you feel their love energy?
I walked around the Lafayette Reservoir yesterday. It was such a beautiful spring day and it’s only February 21st. Lots of other people were out walking and enjoying the day too. The walk was 3.7+- miles up and down. Really good exercise for heart, body and spirit.
I was happy that we made it back to the car and I could still walk. I haven’t done that walk in a few years and about 20lbs lighter. I actually wasn’t in any pain as I remembered from the last time I walked it. It must be because I ride my elliptical bike each night for about 15 minutes.
I look forward to walking again, who wants to come with me?