Search results for purgatory

Home again, Home again, Jiggety-Jog

published by Fran Shea

I sampled purgatory (again)… this time at Logan airport. I guess if I was jogging in place for five hours I’d like to be blasted with cold air from a ceiling vent. And if I wanted to watch a Surrealist film, I would have used my precious data and Boingo wifi to stream Volume I of the Anthology of Surreal Cinema on Netflix.

But like a group of shipwrecked strangers, bobbing in a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic, we were trapped together. Trapped and forced to watch a grown woman giving life to a humanoid using only her bare hands.

Anyway, flight 244 may have been delayed but it took off with little fanfare. Passengers boarded like zombies, sans bloody mouths.

I wish I would have thanked that needle-felting woman and I’ll probably never see again, but I’ll never forget her.

Here is a thank you card that has nothing to do with her or the travel odyssey.

 

 

Life Is But A Dream

published by Fran Shea

“We’re Creek People now, mom… We’re Creek People…”creek-photoWhat began as an optimistic, joy-filled journey down Minnehaha Creek turned into a somber, personal purgatory.

The creek didn’t mean to be a metaphor for life, but it was.

IT WAS.

We made it out alive and I’m so glad, I didn’t want to have to eat one, or more, of my children.raise-the-roof

Did you know it’s Jen’s birthday today?? She celebrated by printing cards for Paper Source in our studio-turned-Easy-Bake Oven. She treated herself with a fan pointed at her back.

Tradition dictates that I make her a card. So, I did.

Pilgrimage Part XXXI (Return to Brigadoon)

published by Fran Shea

The pilgrimage to Cape Cod was like a lil’ slice of Purgatory and I wept with joy as we pulled into the driveway. I also wept when we discovered the house-mascot had been murdered in cold blood.mouse-ratWho would do such a thing?

Don’t worry, everything else was in order:

The boats are in the harbor.

lucy-millwayThe hydrangeas are blue enough.hydrangeas-and-rosesAnd the dead people are still dead.cemeteryPHEW!

wish-you-were-here

Purgatorio di Pesce

published by Fran Shea

That sounds delicious!

If Spring would come I wouldn’t be forced to sit here and email sell sheets to hundreds of newspapers around the country. wrapped-in-bacon-sell-sheetI won’t complain about the weather because that’s about as interesting as listening to someone list their health problems. But I WILL say this:

If I lived in Hawaii, there’d be no Zeichen Press.

See, I can always find the blessing in disguise.a-blessing-in-disguise-blueOh fine, here’s a new card — inspired by the endless Winter:purgatory-red

You Can Take the Girl Out of Minnesota

published by Fran Shea

The odyssey began exactly three and a half miles West of the Mississippi during what would later be called “Friday.” No need for an alarm to be set because rising at 4am comes so naturally to me – getting a jump on the day makes me feel like a dynamo.

First legs of journeys are often fueled by earnestness and without vigilance, that fuel can turn to ennui. (ahn-wee)fran-ennui

Ennui can turn to desperation and when mixed with starvation, can lead to tragedy. Remember the Chilean rugby team? Their plane crashed in the Andes and they ate each other. Survival and cannibalism are in cahoots, everyone knows that.

Our airline didn’t want that blood on their hands so they loaded us up with a rib-sticking breakfast.

coffee-cookie-airtran

Our plane did land safely on the ground and we were stuffed into a sweat lodge/taxi-cab that smelled like thousands of weary travelers. (Curry + pine tree + urine).

I don’t remember my own birth but I bet it felt similar to exiting the taxi – the crying, the relief, the hotel cradling me in it’s arms.

Like good tourists, we went right from the hotel to the subway. Now I know that when I go to Purgatory (and I know I will) it will look, feel, and smell like the subway.

It will make heaven even more glorious.

manhattan-night

Because traveling underground on a train isn’t strange enough, the subway was filled with hundreds of boozed-up Santas.

santa-subway-2

santa-subway-1

And because my touristy feet were killing me, I had to go to the T.J. Maxx on Wall street to buy slippers. I did see the Occupy Wall Street people and asked them if they wanted to occupy T.J. Maxx with me but they (all five of them) looked at me like I was crazy.

occupy

Oh, we also walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. Has anyone seen that thing? It’s pretty cool and people should really be aware of it.

fran-and-lucy-brooklyn-bridge

Don’t I look serious? I didn’t crack a smile all day.

 

Swine Flu and the Fish Pond

published by Fran Shea

We had a special guest for TWO WHOLE WEEKS! : The Swine Flu aka:H1N1 That’s just what we needed to shake things up around here! Oh, and nothing brings a family together like contagious disease. I mean it. I barely notice my kids unless their eyes get glassy and they vomit on my bedroom floor. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, a nosebleed will get my attention -and so will a 2 am phone call from the Edina Police. Oh, kids!quarantine-sign-450x293

I heard that “scientists” are working on some sort of “immunization” for this particular version of the flu. They can just inject themselves with their magic potion. I’m not standing in line at the Walgreens with a bunch of clammy people. Anyway, I discovered the cure: 100 episodes of Malcom in the Middle and lots of popsicles. When The Plague finally, and politely, exited our home – I felt that I needed another challenge:

The Fish Pond at St. Helena’s:

dylan-at-the-fish-pond

Of course! Everyone knows what a daredevil I am – I just couldn’t say no to Jen’s (repeated) requests to “volunteer.”  I don’t regret a moment. In fact, I’m pretty sure that my time in Purgatory is reduced by exactly the same amount of hours that I spent in that claustrophobic booth. That’s five hours, God. Should I go on and on about the ROOM & BOARD project I’m working on? 21 down, only 279 to go! I love you, grayish-brownish-not-quite-taupe-ish-sort-of-smog-ish ink.