Will the Real Debbie Moser Please Stand Up?

Will the Real Debbie Moser Please Stand Up

https://www.facebook.com/dlbradley

My jewelry instructor and mentor is an onion, a sweet one, but an onion, nonetheless.  You’ll see.

Debbie is quite petite, She has a soft voice and a timid air about her.  Her long salt & pepper hair is pinned up under the ever-present visor.  Her glasses have a slight tint of color. 

But Debbie’s work is exquisite.  In many of her pieces of art, she uses numerous natural elements, frequently has multiple metals, does symmetrical and asymmetrical equally well, planning and re-planning designs until they are “right”, and uses her nimble fingers to caress her creation to her satisfaction. Now peel away layer one.  

After two life-threatening, debilitating accidents.  Debbie has limited vision.  Her visor and tinted glasses protect her eyes from the light.  Threading tiny pearls with thin wire is a task that most of us, particularly “of a certain age”, find challenging.  Because she has lost depth perception, it is even more difficult for this lady, but she manages to accomplish it, often more quickly than those without her disability.

Peeling away another layer,  I discovered that Debbie is an animal lover extraordinaire.  She has had her  yellow-nape parrot, Jo-Jo for 44 years.  This bird is its own story.  Because she got her at Christmas time, the bird knows Christmas carols, and when she covers her cage for the night, Jo-Jo hums “Silent Night” to herself.  And cats…this lady has such a passion and compassion for felines.  One of her kitties lived happily for  27 years with her care and the help of a holistic veterinarian.

In an earlier life, Debbie worked with developmentally disabled students.  I’m sure she was fabulous.  In her jewelry classes, she works patiently with every skill level; many times everyone will be working on a different project, and each gets her individual help. Almost diffidently, she apologizes for not getting to every student first, certainly an impossible undertaking.  I can picture her doing this in an academic setting, with each special needs child needing her “right now.”  

Off with layer three.  While discussing LGBQT issues, Debbie revealed that she had worked for the rights of LGBQT developmentally disabled people in Pennsylvania.  Further peeling of the layers uncovered extensive work for the marginalized and/or underrepresented, long before it was recognized as a critical need. She has worked on many committees in Pennsylvania and Canada concerning issues that dealt with mental health and sexuality issues.  She did staff training in Pennsylvania, New York and Canada concerning sexuality issues and persons with disabilities. She also did group and individual counseling.

Another layer off.  She is imminently qualified to fight for and with a wide range of individuals.  She has master’s degrees in special education, habilitative services, blindness and visual services, orientation and mobility services and a M.Ed in sexuality education and counseling services.  She is a certified rape crisis counselor and is certified to work with sexual predators.  She has worked in all of the above areas.  One of the above-mentioned accidents halted her Ph.D dissertation, or I would be calling her Dr. Moser!

After retirement, Debbie received certification in jewelry repair, jewelry design, and metal-smithing.  She currently has a studio at The Hub on Canal in New Smyrna Beach, FL and teaches jewelry classes there (where I was lucky enough to meet her!). She has received awards in pottery, watercolor, sculpture, and jewelry.  

Still one more layer:  I didn’t know this until two days ago.  My sweet teacher and friend is working on a book entitled The Loves of My Life which will tell the stories of all the cats she has loved, starting with her first love, at age one.

Of course, every individual has layers that don’t appear on the surface.  It takes time and interest, and sometimes a bit of probing, to uncover people’s passions and their history.  I plan to spend a little more effort getting past the top layers of people I associate with, but don’t really know.  I’m just glad I have had the opportunity to spend many hours with, and to get to know, at least partially, Debbie Moser.

Still one more layer:  I didn’t know this until two days ago.  My sweet teacher and friend is working on a book entitled The Loves of My Life which will tell the stories of all the cats she has loved, starting with her first love, at age one.

Of course, every individual has layers that don’t appear on the surface.  It takes time and interest, and sometimes a bit of probing, to uncover people’s passions and their history.  I plan to spend a little more effort getting past the top layers of people I associate with, but don’t really know.  I’m just glad I have had the opportunity to spend many hours with, and to get to know, at least partially, Debbie Moser.

The Truth about My "Collections"

The Truth about My “Collections”

I am a hoarder.

My watercolor teacher and mentor, the fabulous Gail Bokor, told me (when she saw my piles of driftwood and shells and fishing line and scrap lumber and countless found objects)  that you can’t be an artist without being a hoarder.    Yay!!!!  Finally, an excuse.!  I must be an artist!  And truly, to me, almost everything has  potential as some  piece of art…perhaps mixed media, or a wall hanging, or a piece of jewelry. In particular, I find beauty in everything natural I find on the beach.   A shell doesn’t have to be perfect to be spectacular.  Shells that are broken and with barnacles are to be treasured because their imperfections tell the story of their journey in the sea.  One with holes has evidence of its interaction with mollusks that bored into it or with the salt water and  waves crashing into the sandy ocean floor.  Fragments have stories to tell of encounters with harsh elements or tougher opponents.   

The problem is, I will never be able to use all that I have hoarded.  The good news is, I have so much to choose from.  

Now, my husband is a hoarder, too.  Actually, that could be a good thing, because he shouldn’t  complain about my “collections.”    However, I must tell you that his choices of things to keep are not in the same league as mine.  Once I watched him spend two entire days taking  rusty nails out of boards (good) and then sorting and saving  them (what?). He has multiple copies of the same science textbook, moldy from being in the garage, that say, “Someday, man will land on the moon.”  I have no idea how many bicycles we have which “can be fixed.”  

True story.  One Christmas, one of my gifts was to be able to park  my car in our garage.  Finally, the day came!  He pulled my car into the garage.  Then came the words, “ I didn’t tell you that you could get out of the car,” and I couldn’t!   

The rest of the story:  I have to admit that some of his dumpster diving and insane hoarding has had incredible results.  His pumpkin plywood has become a wonderful Cinderella craft cabinet.  He “bits and pieces”d a bicycle storage lean-to.  He delights in finding creative and inexpensive ways to use his hoarded lumber.  He even built bookcases for the  crusty books and the albums he rescued from the trash while at FTU  (which became UCF in 1978).  

In reality, we are quite the pair of “hunters and gatherers.”  Or artists?  

I am SO very glad he’s not blogging about my hoarding habit, because I may have sugar-coated it a bit.  A lot. 

As I think about what I just wrote, I realize how lucky I am.  Another day of counting my blessings, being grateful to and for my husband.  Loving the fact that we have the time and the health to plan and execute those plans for our “objets d’art.”   And rejoicing that we haven’t gotten to the point of being featured on A & E’s “Hoarders.”  Yet.

       .

How Did I Live 64 Years Without Knowing I Love Sea Turtles! (Or…What the Heck Else Do I Not Know?)

When I first began beach-combing, I had no clue what incredible eye-opening wonders lay ahead.  The discovery of a sea turtle nest one daybreak left me in awe.  I, being a new beach town resident , stepped right into the ”look what I found” and “what do I do now?”  mode. I couldn’t understand why Fish and Wildlife wasn’t immediately sending out people to mark and protect this nest.  Soon I discovered, as wondrous as this was, it was not a singular event.  I also discovered that the nests are, indeed, well-documented and protected.  Every morning patrols set out to detect, mark, and meticulously record nest details.

Here, in Volusia County, FL, an average of more than 500 nests are dug each season,  which lasts from April to November. This year has been an amazing record-setting one…over 1000 nests, each one with 80-150 eggs.  Because sea turtles primarily lay eggs in the dark of night, it’s a rarity to observe this miracle.

However, the Canaveral National Seashore in New Smyrna Beach offers a wonderful program available during a limited time each summer. Participants report to the visitor center and are treated to a delightful educational film followed by a question and answer session, led by a park ranger. In the meantime, there are park rangers patrolling the shore looking for loggerhead turtles that are building a nest or laying eggs.  When one is discovered, the visitor center is notified and everyone caravans to the parking area nearest the turtle.  Then, quietly, with no flashlights, the group is witness to this hulk toiling in the sand, perhaps using her flippers to dig a nest at least the size of her body and 2-5 feet deep, or maybe dropping her ping-pong sized eggs one by one, or using her flippers to camouflage the eggs.

When I was fortunate enough to be in such a group, I cannot adequately explain the feeling that I had been privileged and honored to be present at this event.  It was spiritual.

That said, you cannot imagine my giddiness when, while looking for trash and treasures, I came upon a 200-400 pound mama turtle building her nest at dawn.  I was the only person on the beach, and I felt I both needed a witness and someone to share my exuberance.  Grateful for my iPhone, I hesitantly approached her…again being respectful of the task she was accomplishing.  Almost 2 hours later, I shut off the phone as I lost sight of her in the surf, breathing a sigh of joy that I was treated to such an event and relief that she made it back out to her home , with her newly laid eggs buried out of sight.  

I have had so many gasp-producing moments…an incredible sunrise, the smile of a tiny baby, the Canadian Rockies, the tickle of a kitten’s tongue, an airplane lifting from the ground…I could name hundreds.  Think about the moments that took your breath.  I would love for you to share them with me…perhaps we even have some in common! And let’s vow to be mindful of each instance, fleeting or momentous, and to be grateful that we are alive to treasure it!

Stepping into My Dis-Comfort Zone

     10/05/2019
STEPPING INTO MY DIS-COMFORT ZONE

I miss my comfort zone, but not much, usually.

For many years I avoided getting out of my comfort zone, but since retirement, I’m finding that stepping out into fear has brought new pleasures into my life, as well as some experiences that I have no desire to re-create.

Now, I’m about to cross the threshold into what is terror for me, although to you it may seem as insignificant as walking into the kitchen. Actually, I’m crossing two thresholds, but they are related.

Some of you know that I have been working with a website developer for a few months to open an online store for my handcrafted jewelry. After many a sleepless night and countless frustrating hours, onlyology.com is about to launch. A few revisions, corrections, and the lessons to learn to manage it myself must be wrapped up and then we’re up and running. The thought makes my heart pound. What if all this effort was for nothing? What if I have no sales after I have spent all this energy? What if the website breaks? What if people think that jewelry from oyster shells is too unique (or bizarre)? What if someone is heartbroken if they don’t see a fairie when looking through my fairie stone pendants?

The second “out of my comfort zone” doesn’t make my heart pound. It makes my heart stop. My website developer advised me to write a ..... BLOG. (Picture a scary font.) So of course, I immediately attack the internet, frantically seeking advice. Therein lies the problem. The internet offers literally zillions....ok, I know, it’s definitely not literally and there is no such number as a zillion...of nuggets of advice! Many of them conflicting. And the only thing that I can come up with is to write what I know. And I know that my hands are shaking on this keyboard.  So many scenarios in my mind are ending badly. Strangers tweeting about my inane comments, friends avoiding me because they don’t know what to say, family shaking their heads and trying to soothe my wounded ego...or denying our relationship.

And then, 67 years of experience takes me and shakes me into reality, at least temporarily.
So what? So what if there are no sales? So what if people read my blog and don’t like it, or noone reads it? So what? And I barge ahead, stomping down negative thoughts and imitating the Little Engine.

And this is the emotion I want to relish, to take and expand and weave it around me. I am doing it...I am conquering a fear and I will make that accomplishment something to cheer about.

I want to hear your success stories...What hurdles have you been able to “gutsy” through? Have you mastered an obstacle that held you back? Please share, but more importantly, celebrate you! Take a moment to congratulate yourself and recognize joy in your triumph!’’