Susan McVicker and Katie Gilliam describe their chance meeting as a God thing. With a mother-daughter age difference, they both marvel at the timing of their worlds coming together and the adventure that unfolded. Susan says she “couldn’t possibly have imagined that her art would someday help women on the other side of the world.” Four years ago Susan came across a dilapidated shoe box filled with her late grandfather’s
Around the world, we discard one million plastic bags every single minute. We use, on the average, a bag for 25 minutes, and it takes 100-500 years for the bag to decompose. Our plastic trash, disposed of on land, eventually flows from streams to rivers to the oceans. An ocean gyre is a system of ocean and wind currents, swirling like a whirlpool. The trash is ultimately drawn into
A taxi driver once asked Salvador Dali, the quirky Surrealist painter, “What drugs do you take? I want them!” Dali responded “I don’t take drugs – I AM the drug!”
A few years ago, I gave my husband a simple and inexpensive valentine – a small, red notebook. Inside the front cover, I wrote a message to my sweetheart. I proposed, with this notebook in hand, we sit down a few times a year and talk about our marriage. My concept was to document our hopes and dreams for the coming months and what we’d like to work
A personal goal for 2016 – and one I plan to carry into this new year— take more time to play. Play with no purpose in mind. Let go of my to-do list, turn off my phone, stop worrying about what needs to be done. Play by myself, play with my friends, play with my husband – play and have fun.
Give Lynn Lesher a challenge and she’s happy. Problems delight her and routines bore her to tears. She describes herself as “a domestic AND an intellect.” She has figured out a way to employ both tendencies while working alongside some of Nashville’s biggest country music stars. Twenty years ago, Lynn decided she was tired of offices and the corporate world. “I literally just quit one day,” she says, sounding like
I hesitate, wondering if I am truly headed in the right direction. Following my instructions, I turn down a deserted alley, made more gloomy and lonely by the heavy San Francisco rain and gray January morning. The alley consists of back doors and fire escapes and garbage dumpsters and Chinese signs. I come upon one tiny English sign and smile – I am in the right place. The Golden Gate