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The Old Warrier

Dapper DadMy Dapper Dad

So March 7, 2017 marks the third anniversary of my Dad’s passing, his “moving on to his next assignment”, as he would say.

As today approached, I wondered how  could I pay tribute, a Facebook post? What photos?  Nothing seemed enough and I thought, “I need to write a blog”.  Pondering that, more memories and content surfaced and I realized that to do the subject any justice, it would need to be a five-part blog…1) the introduction 2) the love story (parts one and two), 3) the family; fruits and follies of having six children, 4) the Surgicenter story, and 5) the conclusion, the grace with which he handled the dementia that finally took his life.

I’m not going to commit to any particular time schedule, so you’ll just have to stay tuned.

The introduction…my Dad was born May 19, 1916 to a doctor and a nurse (Wallace and Mary Reed), with a physician (J. D. Reed) as a grandfather as well.  His younger brother, born two years later, would not live past 6 months, a victim of the influenza epidemic of 1919, and his mother was, as expected, completely devastated.  Two sisters (Dorothy and Betty) and a brother (Robert) followed, and things were good for the lively family in Covina, California, until their dad, Wallace Reed, Sr., met a tragic end under mysterious circumstances on Easter morning, 1932…my Dad was 15.


Dad and BettyMy Dad and his sister Betty


The loss of his Dad nearly broke his heart and life was a struggle after that.  He pursued his education, high school and college, and helped his mother manage the household, maintaining  discipline about almost everything, except his sugar consumption, as detailed in the journals he meticulously kept, up until his father’s death (the journaling would resume later).  One summer he went to Vermont (where his mom’s family originated) for work and summer school, and this provided the opportunity for the beginning of a remarkable love story, which I will attempt to describe in the next post.


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Out of Line


There has been a great deal of shifting and changing occurring.  I see the image of a giant sifter, lots of things passing through, with a few larger, undesirable chunks left behind.

It has been a time of particularly uncomfortable self scrutiny as I measure how I fit in today’s world, feeling much like an Andy-of-Mayberry “Sarah, ring the filling station for me!” phone, as compared to an Apple Watch.

Mandalas help me process and so I began this small piece on grey paper.  I love the way that line collects and weaves itself together to form design and pattern.  I’m grateful that it can make sense of what mystifies and overwhelms me.  This entire piece was created from nothing but lines, with pen, pencil and marker, hence the title “Out of Line”.  Yes, I love words too, and how the meaning can blur and blend, intimating different messages in different circumstances.

I have always relied on lines to contain my images, and certain basic rules to define my life, but it seems now like all of that is changing.  I am learning that life is not as I have thought it to be and at the same time taking classes with a teacher who asks me to paint first and add lines later…maybe.


“Regrets” shows this style, and although I am somewhat pleased with the eventual result, I found it BEYOND challenging to step out into the visual unknown without a line to lead me.  This is not new and I am receiving the message repeatedly that it is time to let the lines go, see Whispers of the Goddess.    I still seem to feel a need to see my vision defined externally before I can render it.  Dissolving this pattern has been experienced as quite the struggle, and I am ready to let that go as well.

For the next assignment, we were asked to see what an already painted canvas suggested to us visually,  and then to “sculpt it out”, much as Michelangelo (allegedly) saw the angel within the marble and then set out to free it.

I didn’t so much “see” the cat as know it was in there, so I was able to allow it to take shape, to a certain point, and then I was stymied by the need to see reference material so I could find my way to the completion of it, again reaching outside myself for permission to express.  I did find what I was looking for and “Turquoise Kitty” feels successful to me.


My journey into the uncharted and unlined territory will continue, and when I need comfort and security, I will always return to the mandalas and soothing gift of line.

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Learning to Love Grey


I’ve never been a big fan of grey…color is my muse, black and white is cool, but grey?  Boring, neutral, non-committal, not included in my palette, in art, or really, much in life.

I always had strong opinions, even though some of what I believe has changed over time, I hold what I currently believe to be true with great tenacity.  It has been shocking to me to see that MANY others do not believe as I do, but rather, hold opposing views that I judge as absolutely abhorrent; acts of hate, perpetuation of inequality, devaluing human life, careless misuse of Mother Earth.

Times of challenge are always eased when I retreat to the studio and create.  When in doubt, doodle…and just having taken a class from the marvelous artist Kathi Hofferth, I chose some grey paper,  and set out with black marker and pencil, white marker and pencil, and what you cannot see is the addition of the silver foil!  As I created, the heart inserted itself firmly in the center, peace symbol surrounding, and yin and yang were added (the balance of dark and light), along with spirals and what appear to me to be exclamation points.

Reflecting on what seems to be a time of unprecedented polarity, I find there is a place, even a need for grey.  To hold positions with such ferocity increases the illusions of distance and cements disagreements in place.

From Mike Dooley of

Actually, Vikki, everyone is reasonable.

They just have their own reasons.

And usually it’s worth trying to learn what they are to maximize chances of a full-blown, 60’s style, psychedelic lovefest. Which is always a good thing.

Groovy you,
The Universe

So I played with the grey and the mandala energy gave me something beautiful.  I realize that I spend lots of time trying to keep things stable and comfortable, when in these times,  the ability to embrace change moment to moment is much more valuable.  The image of a dog with its head out of the window in a speeding car comes to mind…why do they love that?  Wind in their eyes and fur, tongue hanging out, not what I would choose, but can I learn to appreciate it?  I AM learning to love grey.

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Peaceful Transitions


The results of the election have taken their toll on me.  I really never believed we could find ourselves here, but now that we have, a huge opportunity for transformation, or if you like,  AFGO (as my sister is fond of saying) another fucking growth opportunity has  presented.  This can be an agonizing struggle, OR  a peaceful and easeful transition, the choice, in truth,  is ours.

When I find myself in fear, overwhelm and grief (FOG) as I have been this week, giving it up and over to God/Goddess/All That Is by way of  ceremony really helps.

Starting from left to right, “Guidance Mandala” shows up as a reminder to center, check in with soul, mind and body, consult the inner GPS.  “Let It Bee” is next…grief is natural, but fighting against “what is”, especially with blame, shame or guilt is a terrible waste of precious energy.  “Accepting Grace” helps with opening to the unseen, grace is always waiting to assist, but it can be hard to notice if I am “waving my sword around”.

The center piece is “New Paradigm Portal”, signalling the imminent and inevitable changing of the paradigm.  In spite of appearances, the old power paradigm of the distorted masculine is falling away and will be replaced with a more empowered feminine/balanced masculine combination that is inclusive, cooperation and community based, and sustainable.  The election results seem to point to a different truth, but I know it is temporary, and will result in more chaos, which is the birthing place for all significant new creation.

“Power” for the Throat Chakra Mandala is first to the right of the “New Paradigm Portal”, it is essential now that everyone speak their truth with calm empowerment, and I do mean everyone, so if I am hearing a position I am opposed to, I intend to listen with all the equanimity and compassion I can muster.  When I speak, I seek to do so without need for justification, but simply for clarification, education or inquiry, hoping to dissolve distance and create connection.  The next piece is “Transitions Mandala” which I created shortly before the death of my father in 2014.  This piece holds intentional space for a higher perspective, eagle’s eye view of transitions.  Remembering that Einstein said that every  problem contains within it the seeds of the solution, which cannot be understood from the level of consciousness that created the problem, a higher perspective will enable a productive path forward.

Finally, “Unconditional Abundance Mandala” is included as a reminder that abundance is available in many forms.  Freedom is wonderful abundance and it is always available to us, freedom to choose to react with love instead of fear.

The feathers, stones, charms and crystals were selected to support the energy of Peaceful Transitions.  Use my altar, or even better, create your own, or find any ceremony that supports you. Wishing you presence, love for yourself, deep compassion, radical forgiveness, peace and access to your inner wellspring of joy.  Please remember, you are an essential element in this process.

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Who Loves You Baby?


I managed to get a little mandala done yesterday, even with election day jitters, as luck would have it, I am a new Grammie and of course, my sweet, innocent new grand-daughter is on my mind.

She arrived last Thursday (November 3, 2016) a perfect tiny human bravely birthed by my son’s fiance, she actually made it look easy!

I have had the privilege of holding her, marveling at her perfection in miniature, and I am sad that my thoughts go to fear.  I am already worrying about her and what the future holds.  Memories came rushing back of my son, and how I worried about him, the staggering responsibility of his care.  I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.  My heart aches that I cannot protect her, or my son and his family, even though I know that is not up to me.

Mandalas have the power to soothe and heal, at least ME.  I started in the center with a big beautiful eye, God/Goddess is watching over us all.  The eye is surrounded by little Cs, facing each other as initially the words running through my mind were “I SEE you baby”…

Bubbles rise up in front of angles, there will be both smooth and difficult situations in her life, a good life really cannot be had without some challenges to overcome.  The spirals connect the babies, as all life is connected, the continuous flow of generations and time.  Then the sweet babies are rendered, pretty in pink with little rosebud mouths.  The mandala is bordered with hearts and pink drops, I know there will be lots of love and a few tears.

Waking up today, I find that America has elected a new president, someone with whom I vehemently disagree.  For  my grand-daughter, my family, myself and my country, I know I must focus on love.  “Who Loves You Baby?”  Eye do.

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Primary Knowledge


It has been a tumultuous year and most everything feels to be in a state of constant change (oxymoron!)  Even the mandalas feel less familiar and when I returned to the studio after a long absence, this mandala had already been sectioned neatly 16 ways.  I obscured nearly half of the lines for the central spiral, for a nice balance between the lined and open shape.  I did not have the title initially, it suggested itself due to the color scheme and the current life theme, which is, that everything I thought I knew, all my beliefs, including who and how I believe myself to be, are subject to question.

A serendipitous discovery not long ago led me to a painting class which meets once a week.  It is an entirely different style of painting, and the first night we were given a few guidelines and asked to do a still life, my effort is shown below…”Seeing Through”.seeing-through

I had a difficult time with this and realized that painting without a linear framework was terrifying to me.  I have become completely reliant on the lines to guide my way!

Week two we were given a few reference photos, along with access to some magazines and the theme “Hair of the Dog”…and the suggestion of a combining collage and painting.  I again felt the fear of the unknown, but emboldened by the amazing instructor, Kathy Taylor, and the energy of a very talented group, I had the most incredible result… i-did-what-last-night

“I Did WHAT Last Night?”

Last week (week three), the assignment was an abstract (or two!) so off I went again, into the enchanted forest without a map, and what to my astonished eyes should appear, but “Whirlwind” and “Romance”, two serviceable, if unremarkable abstracts.


What is happening?  While these different expressions are coming forth,  a book has come into my hands which I shall not name, as so far I would not recommend it, since it has only served to make me feel hopelessly damaged and destined to live a miserable life until I die a lonely death.  It speaks of the fate of children born highly empathic, that learn to read the emotions and energies of others, taking the skills of a chameleon to a new level in a misguided attempt to harmonize the chaos with which they find themselves surrounded.  The end result is an individual so deeply separated from the awareness of their own truth, their own real feelings and emotions, that there is no way to access the invaluable inner GPS, it has been virtually overridden.  This has me questioning everything…what I paint, why I paint, who I am after everything and everyone else is stripped away.

As I read the words, they seem terribly self-indulgent.  This is not a third world crisis which has me fearing for my physical life, I have not lost my home or had to flee bombings, floods, hurricanes or terror.  Still, I find myself wondering in a deeper way who is inhabiting this physical body and how I might really and truly get to know her.

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Whispers of the Goddess


I spent the first weekend in October with the remarkable Annie Bossingham in a “New Paradigm Workshop”.  There was a great deal of discussion about the role of the feminine energy, the current turbulent shift from the distorted masculine energy which has held power to the evolving blend of feminine and (harmonized) masculine energies that will represent the new paradigm.

Certainly this is playing out on the world stage in dramatic ways that are easy to externalize.  But what about internally?  I know from past experience I would not be so triggered if there was not some resonance inside me.

Introspection begins to reveal the ways I have perpetrated a dishonoring of the feminine;  perpetual doing as opposed to being, attempting to control instead of allowing, and of course the time honored platitude, “It is better to give than to receive”.  In addition, there are the attempts to ignore or manipulate my emotions into submission.  I believe most of these patterns and behaviors are instructed by a desire to fit into the world in a certain way, a world which has even more blatantly dis-empowered the feminine.

But the times they are a-changing.

My creative expression is changing too.  I have just begun a painting class which is teaching a style unlike anything I have previous learned.  I struggled so much with it at first, without realizing, I was missing the lines.  I feel I need linear structure as a foundation for creation.  God/Goddess/All That Is has other plans.

This piece which began as a mandala, features a feminine figure in the center.  I added the elements, fire, water, earth, and was looking to add air, and the Goddess whispered.  She is prominently featured, and she is blowing away the lines.  Her presence is beautiful, powerful, loving, compassionate, intentional, inevitable.  Her breath is directed into the left ear, which coincidentally for me has been intermittently popping.

There is a great healing taking place.  The world as we know it is changing.  There will be some chaos as structure falls away, but beauty, resilience, strength and grace will emerge.   Your participation is essential!

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I’m retreating to the relative anonymity of my blog, after guest writing for Charles and the Storm Wisdom blog, last week and again this week.

I felt pretty confident about last week’s post, “More Questions Than Answers” and admit to having some high hopes for affirmation of my spectacular writing skills, more fans for my blog, your pretty basic delusions of grandeur.  Starry-eyed indeed.

The pressure I feel writing this week’s post (for Storm Wisdom) seems extraordinarily high, I have postulated, pondered and pouted.  The post is written, I have edited it twice, the accompanying mandala has been produced and waits for its cue.  What changes the experience so dramatically for me when I imagine the audience is more vast?  Am I less willing to be authentic?  (No)…Vulnerable?  (Maybe)…More worried about judgment and rejection? (Definitely)!

Oh, the vanity!

So last night I’m sitting in class (Computer Graphics 101) and waiting for the instructor to come my way and explain to me why I can’t make Photoshop obey me with the ease and dexterity he demonstrates.  I can’t move forward so I reach for my notebook and begin to doodle.  Oh, the relief when I see something flow forth from my pen, no matter how humble.  The star is prominent, eye shapes surround, and something like a checkerboard top hat shows up, a visual expression of “Starry-Eyed”.  The instructor reaches my station, swiftly resolves my Photoshop dilemma, and the crisis passes.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to express, through doodles and scribbles, through rambling thoughts and heartfelt rants.  I don’t know how I would make it through without these gifts.  I’m thankful to you, my intimate and tolerant audience, for the privilege of authentic, vulnerable, judgment-free disclosure.  Thank you and goodnight.

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Where’s the Love?

I am hearing more stories these days of people reacting harshly to others, speaking unkindly, and of course, if you are in the habit of watching the news, there is no shortage of evidence that all manner of horrendous behavior is being exhibited.

As I check my interior world, I find anxiety almost constantly running at a low to moderate level, spiking quickly at the slightest provocation.  In addition, I am noticing a lot of self-judgment and scolding.  I’m feeling raw, vulnerable and unsettled.  My snow globe has been shaken once again and everything feels off-balance.

As often happens when distress levels rise, I will not have had (or made) much time to paint, prioritizing instead the demands of the outer world, otherwise known as “real life”.  Retreating to the safety of the studio, I began a little piece to sort things through.  I thought it was to be a more conventional mandala, but the gift of higher wisdom and inspiration made its way through my walls of fear and resistance, and “Where’s the Love” began to take shape.  I was totally confused at first, as arrows were pointing every which way and I felt the now familiar grip of terror when I don’t know what to do, the indicator of my deepest fear, a descent into dementia, which I witnessed for both my mom and dad.

Persistence brought the blessing of the (also familiar) reassurance that once I relax into the creative energy, the magic unfolds before me, in spite of my fear, and gratitude rushes in as I behold a creation that I could not have birthed on my own.

“Where’s the Love” features a heart which is made up of color, black and white checkerboard, and spirals. One of the arrows points to an “X” marking a healing wound on the heart.  The words are actually written out and as I wrote, the arrow on the bottom right was already providing the “v” shape for the word “Love”.

This processes for me what I am witnessing both inside myself and in the world today.  The fear has reached epidemic proportions.  It is imperative that I begin a new relationship with my fear.  Acknowledge it, feel it, honor it and then challenge it. Is it true?  How can I know it’s true?  It is more likely that fear is rising up from deep inside, from a place that has not been given credit for keeping me safe at some point in the past.

I will be doing my best to honor my fear, with the knowledge that as I do, I can open to more love, for myself and in so doing, be the change I hope to see in the world.wheres-the-love-color-web

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Bruised Reed


So less than 48 hours after the post in which I cavalierly proclaimed my willingness to get on the roller coaster and fully experience the ride, a large German Shepherd nearly shredded my right hand with his teeth and I went from complete (okay, relative) calm to total panic in less than 30 seconds.

Pain is a pretty challenging thing with which to stay present and vulnerable, especially when you add the part about not resisting or judging.  The very teachings I have been reading about were being offered up in a real life situation and I can’t say I passed the test.

I was hyperventilating as my son drove me to the emergency room (on which we decided after finding that no urgent care options due to the fact it was Labor Day).  The pain was definitely a 10 on the scale, I would say 11, but that’s just annoying since it is NOT on the scale.  It was a good 3 hours before I got anything for pain (4:30 pm to 7:30 pm) and me without so much as a single Advil in my purse.

Mantras were employed, as well as the eight verses I have learned as part of my Qi Gong practice, along with deep breathing.  All the while my intention was to get as far away from what I was feeling as I could, the polar opposite of the practice I had hoped I was learning.

Accompanying all this was the fear of what had happened structurally to my right hand, my painting hand.  For full effect, I am adding the photo from the emergency room here.


After receiving IV antibiotics, morphine, lidocaine injected locally and a saline IV, having the wound x-rayed, cleaned out and bandaged, and paying my $1,300.00 co-pay, I was on my way home to continue the healing process.

9 days later I completed “Bruised Reed”, a mandala to help work through the trauma of the experience.  Yes, I can still paint, thank God.  This mandala is different, lots of teeth, blood and tears.  It is somewhat erratic and fiery, but also contains some cool and calm places of respite, as well as the yin and yang, for harmony and balance.

I’m not terribly interested in getting back on the roller coaster again.