TUBAC, ARIZONA

Would you rather live here????????????????

Or here!

Actually, the first picture isn't even in Tubac. It's in Green Valley. But there are hundreds of sub-divisions all over Southeastern Arizona that look just like it. Every house or townhouse or apartment is that same drab grey/tan color. The color of desert dirt.

What I want to know is why....when all these cotton candy colors are just as easy to paint on all that stucco as brown is.

All these beauties are in Barrio de Tubac.

Just look at that! Isn't it stunning?




and enticing..........

and cheerful.....

and inviting!

Many of these townhomes have roof top patios for watching the sunset...or the sunrise....or the moon rising, fat and luminous in a black velvet, star- studded Arizona sky.

Even the doggone trash cans are colorful and cute!

Eye Candy!

That's what it is.


Now, let's go to Tubac...the historical little town where there's even more eye candy.

Tubac is an historical old village with a beautiful mountain backdrop. You can't go anywhere in Arizona without seeing mountains somewhere in the distance. These are the Santa Ritas.




Tubac has lots of history. It was established in 1752. This little church has been around a good while, but not that long. Because in 1848, Tubac was all but destroyed in an Apache raid.




But we're not into history today.



This is what we're after! Galleries! Shops! More eye candy!!!!

I just can't tell ya' whether this dog is real...or a sculpture. Could be either one.




Many years before I moved to Tucson, I visited Tubac. One of the most interesting shops featured beautifully crafted copper fountains....most in the shape of desert plants.

Like this one.




Man Oh Man! Look at it today!!!!!! There's everything you can imagine, including the bathroom sink!




There is a veritable garden of flowers. None of which requires water. That's a good thing on a desert.

There's lots of Mexican pottery critters. Big ones.....

and little ones.....

cohabiting with the metal ones.....

Does this blog make my tongue look long?

Hi Yo Copper! Away!!!

If you're not old, like me, you won't 'get' that reference to The Lone Ranger's horse which was named 'Silver.'

I'm grateful for all the beautiful colors in this world. And I'm grateful my friend asked me along for the ride today. And I'm grateful that eye candy doesn't put pounds on my old body!

What are you grateful for today?

HOW I GOT STARTED PAINTING.

About 10 or 12 years ago, my husband and I were coming home from a drive up Mt. Lemmon, when suddenly he said to me, “You’d be a great painter!”

I was dumbfounded.

“Why on earth would you think that?” I asked.

“It’s the way you respond to nature…to colors…to light and shadows.”

As I recall, I simply snorted and changed the subject.

Before hubby and I met, he had been an occasional painter and he still had a whole array of painting paraphernalia (Dang! I didn’t know there was a 2nd “r” in that word! But spellcheck says there is! ) tucked away in a closet. So, he began an all-out campaign to convince me to give it a try.

The more he persisted, the more I resisted, until one day I just couldn’t take it anymore and gave in just so I could prove him wrong. I love proving him wrong.

Back in junior high, the art teacher managed to completely convince me that I was totally lacking in any artistic ability whatsoever. Besides that…or maybe because of that, I've never had any interest in painting AT ALL!

Anyway, he set up the easel and got out a confusing amount of tubes of paints and brushes….and away I went. Within a ridiculously short time I had the thickest, muddiest, gosh-awful mess of paint smeared all over the canvas…and myself! Holy Van Gogh!!!! It was AWFUL!!!

But something….insanity perhaps….took me over and somehow I KNEW that deep inside me was an artiste just waiting to come out. I was instantly hooked…addicted…consumed!!!!

And I’ve painted, more days than not, ever since.

I never took any lessons, except for the ones on PBS, which I watched faithfully.

Helen Van Wyck's WELOME TO MY STUDIO was my favorite.

And I checked out every painting instruction book from my library…

some of them many, many times.

Mostly, I just painted a whole lot of really awful paintings.

Eventually, some of them began to look sort of ok. And occasionally, I was actually pleased with what I had accomplished. Now, although I’m never 100% satisfied, I usually like what I wind up with.

The point is this. Painting, or any other form of creativity, is fun. It brings joy and satisfaction. It teaches good life lessons, too.

Painting, like life, is a process of making mistakes then making corrections-over an over-until you get it right…or at least close enough.

So…..go create something.

And BE GRATEFUL!!!!

A BLOG OF FEW WORDS

All these pictures were taken on our drive up Mt. Lemmon.

Sometimes, I got up close and personal.

Sometimes, I just grabbed the shot as we drove by.

Sometimes life is just gnarly!

Sometimes it's all sweet and pink and pretty.

It's always better when you have a friend.

Sometimes, you just need a hug!

Sometimes, it's all a blur.

Sometimes, it's all just perfect!

SOME THINGS I LOVE

The story is that, as I child, I gave this kitschy little Indian Boy bank to my uncle for Christmas. While I recognize the politically incorrect, stereotypical characteristics of this chubby cheeked little Navajo toddler, I can’t help but feel a lightening and brightening of my Spirit every time I look at him.

I mean…tell me….how can you resist that face?

This little guy sits on the floor in my living room And in the evening, when I’ve crashed into my recliner, worn out from life’s trials and tribulations, I need only to sneak a peek at this happy fellow and suddenly-all is right in my world!

He also reminds me of a real live Navajo boy who first came into my life when he was about this age. He’s suddenly all grown up, though….over 6 feet tall and a brand new daddy. How’d that happen?

This vintage Tonala vase is one of my yard sale finds. One day, I got into an introspective frame of mind and began really studying this vase. I imagined the work-worn brown hands that made it; first digging and working the red clay and shaping it carefully, curing it in a wood fire and then skillfully painting it. Did he or she use paints made from soil or plants? Did he or she use a brush made of plant fibers? An understanding came to me suddenly….that like all things, this vase had its’ beginning in the very ‘stuff’ of the Creator of All That Is. Every particle of that vase has existed since this planet, Earth, was made! It came through some long ago potter, passed through other unknown hands and then, eventually, into my own. My soul has traveled all the way back to ‘In the beginning’….through this lovely work of art.

Now, when I see it, I am reminded of my connection to that Great Creator. And that we are all connected…to all things…and to each other.

My mother bought this for me when I was a young woman. She, no doubt, got it in a second hand store. To me, this little vase is completely and absolutely a sensual feast! The color is so soft, yet deep and luscious. The smooth glass is silky, satiny and velvety…all at once.

The graceful handle. ...the fluted edge...like ruffles...so delicate...so utterly feminine. So unlike me.

I’m rough around the edges-no girly-girl am I!

Stubborn. Independent. Opinionated.

More at home in men’s work clothes than ruffles and bows.

Maybe this little green vase is a reminder to me that I am still WOMAN…even when I roar. That there is softness and tenderness and vulnerability beneath my rough, tough exterior. And maybe, I should let that side of me out more.

This post has been quite an experience. You see, I’ve always known why I love that little Indian boy….and the Tonala vase. But until I started writing the words, I had no conscious recognition of why I so love that little green vase…and have loved it for over 40 years. Thanks, Mom.

For me, this has been an interesting exploration of some of my treasures…both the obvious ones…and the hidden ones.

What do you love…and why?

Let’s be grateful for them together.