Waiting for the howling of my wolves

I love wolves. And this, since I was a child.

And it was not that common in France, to love wolves. They are extinct there since nearly a century (despite some effort to get them back in the French Alps and in the Pyrenees- much to the locals dismay). And French culture is full not of respectuous story of the clever wolf, but of terrible tales of hatred and fear from this animal (remember the little red riding hood ? It s French tale from what of our writers, Charles Perrault).

But I have always loved wolves. Despite the threats (my mother "if you don t eat your supper the big wolf will come to you in the night" - me, silently, praying "oh yes, I'd love that !") and the dark fairy tales,

I have always known that the wolf was my companion and my ally.

Here I am. I am probably two. This is in my grand parents house in French. Burgundy, where my parents used to leave me for the hollydays when they took off by themselves for their luxurious travels - my mother was not of a very "motherly nature" and my father probably forgot about half of his life he had inavertendly made a few children with his regular wife -

The big white wolf you see on that picture was one of the last seen and shot in Burgundy, probably at the end of the 19th century. He was a huge and furry animal, and the taxidermist who had fixed him for eternity had spent much time to give him a terrifying grin, probably as a tribute to the "courage" of the hunters who had shot him for far.

And all the kids in the house - my cousins, as well as the neighbors kids - were terrified of this poor animal who was standing near the door of the main living room. They used to tell wild tales about how he could get your leg if you did not run fast enough while going besides him, and how he was awake in the night and wandering in the house to catch the kids if they were not in their beds as instructed by their parents.

Most of the tales having probably been told before by the parents himself, as this was at a time where many French adults found easier to raise theirs kids with terror instead of reason and would say " n importe quoi" (anything) to frighten their kids and get their power back.

I loved that wolf.

And I still remember the feeling of his poor dry fur, and the confort I felt when I was cuddling him. 

He was my guardian, my friend, the magical animal that would only talk to me, and come later to my sleep, in the night, to protect me from all the (other) things I would fear.

And when my mother, who was in the old house of Burgundy from time to time, and hated to be obliged to take care of me, would shout at me during the day  : "if you refuse to obey I will take you to the big wolf"

She had no idea I was simply delighted at the thought, and was in fact waiting happily for the wolf to come see me.

I have been hoping this encounter would really happen in my life one day.

It nearly did.

In Mongolia, in 1996, where I spent nearly three weeks, mostly sleeping under a tent in the steppe with few other French travelers, I heard them. In the far.

The howling of a pack of wolves, echoing in the mountains.

And I felt a mix of fear (we were sleeping in small two persons tents, without even a dog guarding us, and frankly if the wolves had had the idea to taste French food, we would have been easy meat) and of pure, absolute joy.

They were not far. And I was torn by the envy to try myself the howling - answering back to the pack-

And my excellent French education which solemnly reminded me that night that my fellow travelers would probably not appreciate the publicity..

So I stayed silent, on that night when I heard the wolves howling  in the Altaï mountains 

(it s the name of my cat, by the way, Altaï - I really loved theses fierce and wild mountains in the north of Mongolia, where Gengis Khan once settled his capital, and my cat proudly wears this name in remembrance of that night)

And I still regret that missed opportunity to say hello to the pack.

And now ?

I wait. And I pray.

I hope to meet the wolves here, in the US, during my trip with my trailer. 

And to have this time the chance to howl back (no one will know, I am alone in my trailer and my dogs won t tell anyone :-)

I know the Mexican wolf is trying to gain back his right to a territory in New Mexico. I hope to cross his trail. Who knows, maybe my big white wolf will be back there, freed from his old prison in Burgundy, and will recognize my voice.

For he is still coming in my dreams... 

And I am waiting for him.

I got my boots and my hat. Ready to ride !

I have dreamt of cow boy boots for years. And I had perfect idea of what I wanted. The natural leather, and the blue of thoses stone I wear often, this blue that matches the sky here perfectly .

Got them this morning ! Soooo happy :-)

And the hat too. For some French people may think that cow boys hats are "folklore"... But after a few days here, walking with my dogs in the wind, the sun, driving with the unbearable light sometimes,  I can tell you that cow boy hat is not "just for the fun". It s really useful to protect your face here. 

My eyes and my brain are proudly westerner now !

So, I just have to find my ride then. Feel a bit lonely without a good four leg companion sometimes. And yes, I do dream of a strong, faithful, tender horse like my horse I loved so much in Switzerland when I was a teenager there.

But I have another dream too. One that would make most European horse people laugh shortsightedsly (does this word even slightly exist ? Not sure, but you probably see what I mean)

I want a Mule.

A big, clever, sure footed Mamooth Mule that would take me everywhere without a flinch of heart and would be my best friend for the next 40 years at least, in the south where I am heading.

How did I come to this idea of a Mule ?

In Fort Worth, two weeks ago , during the Saint Patrick's day parade, 

I spotted a huge dark mule, proudly taking the lead of the march,

and I fell immediately and profoundly in love with that animal.

I had never heard of "mammoth mule" before, but I immediately felt I had just found my perfect ride.

Mules are proud and clever animals, often mistaken as "difficult", when in fact they just have ... a  brain, nearly as good as ours, but wired differently, and more difficult to figure than horse's which is pretty basic in fact.

Don't get mistaken. 

I love horses. 

I can stop my breathing of emotion when I see a wonderful horse. I have that physical attraction that makes me slow on the road when I drive, just to catch a glimpse of a horse I feel "interesting" in a field.

and yes, God, a horse nearly killed me four years ago, and condemned me to a whole year in a bed with the threat of never be able to walk again normally... 

But even in my painful bed then, I still dreamt often I was again on the back of a horse, riding in the prairie,

This love is intact.

And here, I dream every day to be back on the saddle ...

But I want a Mule.

Do you know why ?

It s a because of the brain. And the behavior consequent to this difference of brain.

I love horses, and I know them well. And I know what all riders know, even with just a few hours of horseride experience : horse's first reflex, always, is the FLIGHT. 

Horses have been prey in the wild for so long, 

And their survival has depended so strictly from their ability to run away 

that "flee" is hard wired in their brain very deeply.

And even with the best education, and the best level of trust you can develop with your ride, 

a horse will always have this tendency to run away, or at least suddenly step back, when it gets frightened - and fright is easy in a horse, even if "heavy" and "cold blood" breed of horses have been developed to try to counter this deeply ingrained attitude.

And right now, with my fragile back, I simply cannot trust a horse that could make a brutal movement at any moment for anything, without any warning...

I want to ride, but I need to ride safely.

So, I want a mule.

Mules are different, thanks to their donkey ascendance.

You may know that donkeys come from desertic areas, often montainous, always dangerous to run through. So their brain has, since a long time, been wired very differently from the horse's, 

for in that environment, "run freely to save your life" would just end in accident and death.

So donkeys have, for a long time, learned to "think" before letting emotion take the control of their behavior suddenly. They "assess the situation" , and then decide on the best attitude to take in the situation they are facing. That s what make many donkey owners say their donkey is "more clever " than their horses. And that s also why, when you have horses and donkeys in a field, and they suddenly take a fright, you see the horses depart long before the donkey decide to take the same way.

A horse is "emotional" ( and it's part of the fascination we have for this wonderful animal. A good rider, a good horseman, is someone able to calm this emotional temperament - and a good horse, a beautiful ride, is a horse who has learned to master his emotion and trust his rider with a "I trust you because you know better than me" thought most of the time)

A donkey is "rational" (and they learn quickly and never forget, for this has been part of their survival. Ask a donkey owner of the torture it is to get a donkey in a trailer once he has set his mind to the idea it s dangerous and he does not want to step inside. Even twenty years after a bad experience, a donkey will nearly break the will of every human if he decide NOT to do something)

He takes that glimpse of a moment to think things, and choose the right attitude . Fear and flight is not their first reflex. And that make them much easier rides (see in the poor countries where everyone in the family rides the donkey, including the kids, but none would even set themselves on a horse back for they know they are not "riders")

And a mule , partly horse and partly donkey, generally has, when you take a good one, this ability of the donkey to "think before he or she reacts"

A mule won't suddenly step away in a fury because a poor plastic tube on the floor (horse brain : Snake ! Run !) or a large stone on the side of the trail (horse brain : Moving Shadow ! Predator ! Run !). 

A mule will have that first "thought" " okay, don t run, it s dangerous to run out of fear. Think. What is it ? look, understand. now act. And remember !)

That s also why donkeys and mulse are often good guardians, able to protect sheeps or poultry from predators - they don t have a "prey brain" prominent in their behavior, and they can go to protectiv behavior easily, when very seldom horses do.

Ever seen on Internet these image of a mule attacking a mountain lion that was threatening his owner ? It s impressive, for you can really see the mule goes voluntarily into the fight. And in France donkeys have been used for a long time to work with sheeps and help the shepherd know when something was threatening.

So, knowing all that,

Still loving the horses deeply to the bottom of my heart,

I want a Mule.

A big hearted, clever, funny Mule (yep, funny. Donkeys and mules have a huge sense of humor, if they have the chance to have around them humans who like to develop this ability in their behavior  !) 

with big bones, sure feet, and this soft nose that looks for your shoulder with confidence to breathe soft smells of hay in your neck with tenderness...

Now ? Well, not really, for my trailer is sure large, but would probably not fit the mule of my dreams for my road trip. 

Later. In a few months, when I will have settled on my land.

But if you have in your environment this mule, and happen to know she or he is looking for it's next owner.... Let me know ! I know he or she is waiting for me so where, just have to find him or her now...

My first Powow... and a precious souvenir

I have been today to the first Pow wow of my (already quite) long life. Today in Wichita Falls (where I got because i just loved the name. and it is the experience I expected !) were held during the same afternoon the Cowboy True fair held by the Kemp Center For Art and the 6th Benefit Pow wow of the Red River Intertribal Clubs

 Was it just a coincidence that both events were on the same day ? or a way to allow visitors coming from far to see two things in the same afternoon ? or should it be read as an ancient but still existing rivalry ?  I have frankly no idea.

I am so new here I am still very superficial in my understanding on the way society works here.

 So I got first to the True Cowboy show, which was exactly the kind of art I have seen in Dallas and on my way here. Lots of paintings and sculpture , most of them of dying deers hunted by dogs or raging bull attacking horses...

The traditional cow boy art is full of the fury or survival, and quite classic in its approach. No real love at first sight for anything there. Nice, but not exactly my style (I just happen to hate the traditional occidental way to depict animals in their dying or fighting for their life moments - the hunting/taming/running-with-fear scenes we find "beautiful" in French art, English art, and well Cow Boy art too. They are not the way I like to see animals. Or humans ...)

So I left after a polite tour there to head straight to the Pow wow.
 (the curious thing being that I had no idea a Pow Wow was held in Wichita that afternoon -it s at the True Cowboy Fair that I just got an eye on a small paper announcing it, on one of the stands - without this providential sheet of information I would have missed it) :

"Pow Wow"

 I was about 25 when I heard that word for the first time. And that's exactly 25 years ago.

A friend of mine had a boy friend who bragged during a party about 'having been in the US to a Pow wow with Indians" - but curiously when I started enquiring with passion about what it was exactly, it rapidly turned out the guy had no idea... Never been to one, just stole the word from some Americans while he was there -

There was no internet then, and I was back to France after my studies in San Diego - no way for me to find what a Pow Wow was from France, you can imagine. But I remembered the word, because I had felt such a strong emotion inside when hearing it for the first time... It stayed and it waited for its time.

 It's only a few years ago, when I started to dream about getting to the south west of the US and prepared my trip to Santa Fe that I discovered, while working on Zuni art, the meaning of Pow Wow... and I started to dream about it immediately

day or night - images and music would not go...

 I have a long and deep love for native music, started quite amusingly thanks to a French TV add in the 90's that featured a few minutes of that (particularly not known in France) music. I had bought then the CD and immediately fallen for the chants and rhythms.

And I have listen that CD hundreds of times since (chants and dances of the natives americans - sacred spirit 1998 - you can find it on Itunes).
I have even written my second book mainly with this music in the background.

 So the idea to be allowed, as the French stranger that I am, to hear and see this music 'live' was just magic to me.

So, with the unexpected help of True Cowboy, I got to my first Pow Wow today...

 And this Pow wow was small, and I was tired, and I did not stay too long

-  hum, have to admit reluctantly at that point that driving my truck and trailer has taken a toll on my arms and back - I don t need to go to the gym, I swear, I am sculpting some very good muscles on the road right now ! -  so I could not stay as long as I wanted seated on the rigid chair there...

 But what an emotion to hear for the first time in real this chants, and feel the vibrations !

 You know, I have always been kind of foreign in my own country. I have fluently spoken to animals since I was a kid, I have kissed the taxidermized white wolf in my grand parents house every night before bed because I knew he would come in the night to visit me in the dark, and I have always felt more at ease with native philosophy (at least the knowledge I have of it) than with the catholic faith I am supposed to be born with.



 And native music immediate brings me in a special state - just a perfect line between Sky and Earth.

I feel grounded, and in the same time tall enough to feel the clouds and wind above.
 And I can feel the earth breath - I can feel her rhythm -

It s exactly what happened this afternoon during the only dance I was able to see - the feeling of suddenly "belonging"
even if I am French
even if I am white skinned
even if I am a redhead

 And I had to struggle to hide my emotion, for I could have burst into tears when I realized I was exactly at the place and time I was meant to be - that I was home at last, that I had found my family.

My Tengrin, my inner voice who has guided me during all these years, never losing hope and purpose, told me at that moment that I was indeed where I belong, even if the welcoming was not particularly warm from the attendants - for even if I have read the main things to respect in a Pow Wow, like standing for the entrance of the dancers or staying away from the first rows , I am still a rookie and it shows - and there have been a few not too nice looks on me that showed I was not totally taken for welcome there...

My Tebgrin told me at that emotional moment that I was not mistaken, and that I was where I was supposed to be
and that I would soon  get a sure sign of it.

There was a lottery then, to raise money for the Faith mission. I had bought a few ticket, mostly to help. Did not have any hope to win : I never win !
the last time I won something I was about ten and won a radio ... that's about all I have ever won in my whole life !

 And the "master of ceremony" started to draw numbers I only half heard because of the bad speakers and the crowd.
They gave away foldable chairs, icebox, blankets - and I was slightly dreaming, because I did not have any wait nor special interest ni the proceeding.

And then suddenly a number was called, with an unprecedented clarity, for I recognized it immediately - loud and clear

 I had won !!!

 a small jewel - a hair pin I think - in beads -

my sign was there, and my inner voice was joyful and cheering "See !"

 I went to get my prize in a relatively silent crowd - I am not absolutely sure they were as delighted as me that I won - And well, I can understand it. I figure a native in full attire arriving in the Church of Sainte Megere les Gougnaves in France (Please dont look on a French map, Sainte Megere les Gougnaves does not exist and the name will make the French laugh) and wining one of the best prices of the catholic yearly tombola : I am not sure the priest and the locals would be very friendly either... that s how the world goes -

And now I have with me this very special souvenir, this orange and red sun, that I will keep forever like a treasury :

 That sure sign I am on my path to the West and that I am where I should be...

I have found the "real' angry bird !

I have a rather distant relationship with taxidermy. The idea of keeping in a false life a dead animal is not exactly my taste in home decorating... but today in the restaurant where i have had lunch, I fell in love with the most impossible taxidermy I have met till then : the real Angry Bird !

Want to meet this legendary ancestor of your favorite game ? rush to the Feed Lot Restaurant in Burkbunett TX. And you will not only get to meet ABBIE (Angry Bird = AB = Abbie) but you will also get one of the best New York steack in the area !

 You Texan have such a great meat, this is really not a legend. But you are also the proud owner of the Angry Bird ancestor. What a State !!!

I love this country...

I just love this country,

Where I'm awaken by the song of happiness of birds around me,

Where trees are the height of churches in my country,

Where people can get out of the urban "rat race" and take the time to be themselves,

Where the color of their skin has turn to rich earth,

Where wolves like to pretend they are dogs and live with their chosen human,

Where nature and people are just one,

I just love this country...

Hit the road (without the jacks - rv joke)

I am on the road !..  I prepared this moment for more than a year, spent countless hours choosing the right vehicle (rv ? Trailer ? Fifth wheel and truck !!) reading rv forums, watching videos to be ready for that moment. And here I am, driving my good big truck (family name : snow, for he s white - first name :  yeti because he is incredibly powerful but gentle) - (and yes, yetis are gentle, read Tintin in Tibet book if you are not aware of this useful information!)

I have towed my fifth wheel for more than a hundred miles on the roads, and after a few minutes of fear and doubt - God, do we look big ! - I realized that ... It s quite easy... With the right truck !

 Power means security, I have heard since I was a kid - for hauling horses as well as on snow or in difficult weather - : it s true also for towing. 

With my big yeti (my powerful Chevy silverado) I tow my fifth wheel with no effort, and I always have the power I need to make a towing effort, and the good breaking system to slow or stop.

I took nearly 5 months to decide myself on the truck I was to buy, and then to find (thanks carguru !) the perfect second hand model I wanted (thanks Trevor at Toyota dealership - the truck is just as perfect as you said !). 

(I hate to buy new car, knowing you loose about 15% of your money the minute it passes the door of the dealership, so I got a good second hand with low mileage)

Here I have exactly what I wanted and it has no fancy equipment, but all the power and security I need. I am proud of my yeti !

For my fifth wheel, I am really happy with my choice too. It s a Elkridge 34tsre with a separate bedroom and a cute living room , and believe it or not, it feels as spacious as a nice apartment in France (yes, you south westerner have no idea of how  BIG everything is here compared to old small France !)

I have everything nicely organized there (I used to be a professional organizer in France, years back, and I really enjoyed during my last months in France the preparation of the perfect list for the rv in 2014 - lot of work with amazon, blogs, reviews.) 

I was eager to check if everything was right, and I am mainly satisfied with my choices . Everything has its place, I travel light, and during my towing trip nothing fell  on the floor or broke (I will make a special post about all the organizing tips I found and how to make your rv trips smooth and ... safe !).

I am still discovering the subtilities of hooking /unhooking , amperage , water tanks, electricity plugging - but truth is , if you work before your subject, it s not that complicated - and people around are mostly helpful (not all of them however- you know how some humans are - and with a woman alone on the road ! You get to see the best - but the worst also if you are not careful !

So, I am getting my first degree in RVing without too much hassle, and I ... really have fun.

Want to know the truth ? Yesterday on the road, when the landscape started to change, when the cities were forgotten and all I could see were cows, farms, and suddenly a wonderful large pray bird flying in the sky -

I cried.

Of joy and pride.

I have dreamt of this minute for such a long time . I was ten when my parents took me and my brother from Switzerland to the US for a few days trip with a rv (a Winnebago, and I could still draw the floor plan and the strange textile patterns !). We spent a few days in Yellowstone, and there I fell in love with the road, the freedom, the house that goes with you everywhere, even on the shore of a wild lake or in the silence of the giant trees.

Took me 40 years of hard work to get back 

And here I am !

;-)

And my pets ? Well, they are... in love with the rv concept ! The carpet, the fake furnace that blows hit air in the chilly night (God you can really experience all four seasons in a day on Texas !) the windows, the huge bed ... They loved the trailer the first minute they set a foot in it :

I had not started the unpacking they were already home and cosy. And my cat, who is a real travel lover (I took him in many places in France and he is always eager to discover new places) has already "linked" to the trailer. He asks politely to get outside when we are in the camping areas (safe for the moment , no coyotes or bear around - and yes, Charles, I have learned from you on this and I will be careful in wild environments !).

He takes his morning and evening tour, careful but obviously happy, and then comes back to the door meowing to get in. 

I think he has been preparing himself for this all his life !

And he spends the most of his days watching birds through the large window, preferably seated on my last drawing or my computer - he s a cat after all.

So I am now on my way, discovering Texas before heading to Santa Fe by strange roads,

for it s true, I just follow my instinct and  my envy to draw

with my team in perfect shape, 

and my "big" wheeled home,

And believe it or not, now I even feel small with my Yeti and my Elkridge : watch what a truck parking is here !  My "équipage" looks like a prairie dog waiting peacefully near bisons grazing...

Next post, probably a few drawings from there. We ll see... Now that the material part of the trip is set , place to art !

See ya !

Ready...

I have my trailer and my truck... Ready to hit the road and start my wild trip now. Dallas was the "urban " arrival. Now I am on my way for more wilderness and larger space...

So if on the road you see Mountain (my big trailer) and Snow (my white truck with my drawings on the doors)

Come and SAY HELLO !!!

Mountains and Snow...

This belongs to you... and I hope to get a chance to give it back to you soon.

Not losing hope... yep.

And dear Mountain and Snow, "felicitations", your horses are in great shape ! I have drawn many wild horses because in the wild they are much more fit and muscular than our poor boxed horses in France, never allowed to run free and have a good time.

Yours are just as strong and well built as the wild mustangs I love to draw.

And have you already noticed that the horse on your left side (is it a mare ? I felt so when I drew her) has a howling wolf painted on the neck ?

I really love your photo...

Noooooo !

Okay, I m strong. And able to recover after big traumas... But this ?

WILL IS DEAD
in the Good Wife tv show.

I can't believe it. Took the plane for ten hours. Got straight to America. Set my mind on a good bachelor, a lawyer obvisouly not seriously loved before, waiting for me, probably.

And the guy dies in a terrible shooting, like that, without any warning ? I saw him a few hours ago, he was laughing, everything was normal.

and now he s dead ?

I m in shock.

I think I am going to sue the Good Wife (excellent) writers for sunday depression and extreme endangerment of my (excellent) current mood.
I cried tonight over the death of an imaginary man !

(however, to be frank, it s nothing in comparison to the flow of tears I shed on the death of the young writer in Smash second season - if you have not seen this show, rush to iTunes and get the second season, the best by far,  for your next week end, it's excellent - and the music of the 'modern' musical is incredible)

So, now that Will has, without any warning, disappeared,
I'm begging you ....

Please, tell me what happened behind the scene !!! Did the actor ask for a huge raise ? did he get a great role in a Hollywood movie ? did he get pregnant (nothing impossible in this century, you know) ?

I want to know why he left the show... I looooove to understand the real human dynamics behind the polished window we are given to see.

Yes, I d really like to understand...

Bye Will, you have no idea what you just missed by not meeting me !

Life goes in circle, says the Owl...

I do believe life goes through kind of circles.

You are faced with something: an experience, a difficulty, or a happiness... It opens the circle.
And if you are careful, you will see around you the signs.

And then the experience, the difficulty, or the happiness comes to an end. You have learned what you had to learn. You have paid what you had to pay.You have lived the gift you were given.

The circle closes.
And you get, once again, if you are careful, a sign.

About a year and a half ago, my life was a total mess.

I had married someone I knew since about a year, and just after our wedding I had discovered the truth about this guy, and his dangerous addictions. He got violent, left, came back, threatened, left again... every day was difficult.

And my health was a mess too !
Though I had at last got a diagnosis for my sickness, I had come to a dead end in France : the medications that could help me were just unavailable in our country,
and I discovered then that the entire French health system is in fact crumbling and now unable to help,

I know some of you dream of a State owned health system : please don't fall in that trap !
When the state goes through an economic crisis, like most occidental countries since 2008, if the system is state owned, you have no idea of the difficulties sick people encounter to get even minimal health care.
I have been told very frankly (but discreetly of course) by one of my doctors:
"anyway you will never get a written diagnosis about your sickness ; it s a chronic disease, it means the French state should pay you a pension, and now they just won't allow it. You will be told by all doctors here, including me, that you have nothing, and you won t get the medication you need , because you cost too much to help.
Everybody will lie.
Just go somewhere else if you want to save your life"

And believe it or not, I am not even speaking of a terrible and dangerous disease , rare and difficult to treat ! No, I have a quite common genetic disease which is easily diagnosed in the Us and can be taken care for without much trouble
(by the way, read in the right column of this blog the article about von Willebrand disease ! you will learn more about this very common blood problem and maybe save lives around you by spreading information)

We all know the ability of States to lie for 'security reasons' ... So take my advice on that : better not give them your health responsibility, State is not the best surgeon !

So back to winter 2013 : I was in trouble for my job, my marriage, my health, had of course money issue and... strong doubts about what to do of my future, evidement ....

BREF
as we say in French
to make is short

I was in deep sh..., life was tough and I had to be really strong,

And one afternoon, I felt this sudden urge to paint that catches me often, but with a very precise idea : i wanted to catch the beautiful movement of an owl whose picture had caught my eye a few weeks before.
And I did this painting which I really love (which is quite rare for me, for I am ALWAYS disappointed with my finished work- you know, that feeling that what you did with your hands is just never exactly what you had dreamed with your head before !)

Once the painting was finished, I looked at it for a long time, wondering why it felt so "right"

and then I realized I really had the feeling that this owl was me,
facing the blowing wind, the snow, the night...
all these difficulties that I had to face at each of my steps, every day.

It has been long time since I finished that picture : more than a year, spent to work hard to prepare my trip and my next project here in the US

and it has been difficult many times (my dear husband has even sent me to hospital twice, and there is a police procedure pending),

and the Night of the Owl was always with me : i had it on my iPhone case, and I looked at it everyday, thinking "there is a time when night and winter come to an end, and you are just as strong as this owl'

And I did it : I am free. I am here. My divorce is on its way.
and I am even now on the path of health recovery ...

So since a few days, I thank morning and evening Heaven and my (slightly tired) guardian angel for getting me here safe and helping me through that difficult time.

Somehow I know it from inside,
my winter has ended,
and I enjoy life and the freedom to work I now get.

And today, I decided to take a few hours to go to Dallas 'Indian Expo' which was taking place in Arlington this week end (thanks to the nice guy at Petco who told me that ! and by the way, nice guy, you should keep that baby parrot you have so much fun with at Petco, he loves you and when you play with him, you shine !0

OK, this fair is very commercial, and that's probably not about the best of native art you can get in the US,
I am aware of that,
but I just wanted to have a look and see what was going on in that sort of event here. you never know...

I really loved one of the painters there (Arthur Short Bull, he is Sioux and does wonderful watercolors and very good animals portraits too),

and the sand painter who was working there as if the rest of the world did not exist anymore (Wallace Ben, Navajo, from Shiprock).
I know that feeling, and I love to see someone lost in beauty and calm whatever happens around :

By the way, I have discovered only recently that sand painting is a traditional american native art. I only knew the tibetan sand painting, which is just as spiritual and beautiful.

In Paris, a long time ago, tibetan monks had spent months working on a magnificent sand Mandala near my place, in the North of Paris, at la Cite de la Musique, and I have
 spent hours then watching them work on a huge perimeter with slowness and concentration. I was just fascinated, and I had no idea of what was to happen with that splendid piece of work.

At the end of the process, when the Mandala was completed and perfect,
the monks in a long ceremony blew all the colored sand meticulously dropped during weeks of hard work
put all in a bag,
and went down to La Seine river.

There, they threw everything away.

It was a precious lesson of humility for me (in our society where, with the development of numeric storage possibilities, we tend to preserve and keep everything) :
Yes you can spend hours, days, weeks of your life working, creating beauty and perfection- and then accept to see it fly in the wind and merge in the river without even shivering.

because thats how life goes.

impermanency and changes is the law.

And, by the way (again) I am still amazed by the links and similarities I see between tibetan, nenet (russia) , inuit, mongol, american natives and aborigines people... in arts, the links are evident.
Just as I have read recently it is for many of their languages...

All these people have the same roots and heritage,
the more I travel the more I find this striking.

SOoooo, back to Dallas , this morning, at the Indian Expo...

I was walking in the alleys, trying to ignore the junk and spot the good things

when, at the back of the large expo building, I suddenly spotted a special stand.
a place where life and movement were different...
Birds ! Raptors ! Bald Eagle, Falcon,
and
yes
at the back of the stand,

a snowy Owl...

a ravishing, tender, ghostly snowy Owl giving me that extraordinary look only birds can give you : that look that goes straight to your most hidden self and asks frankly
'Hi, who are you ?'

I had my picture taken with this owl.

Yeah, probably a bit of a tourist thing
but God, I was so happy to be beside this beautiful animal, able to watch it closely
and realize suddenly that this moment was the sign, the symbol...

I started this post by saying that life goes by circles,
and you had a sign when a circle opened... and another when it closes.

I think this picture marks the end of the Night of the Owl for me.

The Owl is awaken, and she is now turning right, looking into the future, ready to go.

And so am I...

The circle is full... I am waiting for the next one. So it goes...

The Night of the Owl by SylvieManso
See other Owl Graft Case at zazzle

My dogs (and my cats) are Texans !

It sure was a long trip : 20 hours in their crate to get here from France !

But they were soooo happy to see me that obviously it was worth it... 

And I am sooooo happy to have them all with me for my trip !

Meet Regliss (which means Liquorice in French) the large Leonberg,

Nela (which does n t mean anything in French but she comes from Spain) the UFO (unknown furry object)

On their first "omg where are we" day in Dallas, at a local dog park :

They have been pretty impressed by the change of weather, smells, and even languages around them. The "how cute" most people say here when meeting dogs (when they like dogs) seems to really puzzle my two dogs, more accustomed obviously to the French "oh qu'elles sont belles"

On that first day you could really see both of them exchanging puzzled looks, obviously thinking  "what kind of language is that !?!" 

But from the first day, they have discovered one great thing... An immediate hit, and a recurring pleasure that make them jump in the car with excitement for their walk there :

Squirrels !

In France, squirrels have almost disappeared. When I was a little girl they were quite easy to see. Today, because of the pesticides, raticides , and other chemicals used by farmers, and because of the destruction of forests, they have become rare and difficult to spot. I have taken those two dogs on numerous walks, including in large forests (I used to live in Rambouillet , a small city near Paris nested in one of the largest forest of France ) : they have never met a squirrel there...

But here ...

Texan sized (xxl) squirrels seem to take a great pleasure into provoking all dogs, including the tourists dogs who seem to be particularly favored : squirrels run under their nose, rush to the nearest tree, and stand on an upper branch with a provocative stance :

"No way, dogs. You may be large and well fed, you may even be French, you won't see more of me than my tail and a furtive glance !"

Can you spot the squirrel here ? My dogs sure did !

So, my dogs have arrived here, as planned, and have  even found their first American pleasure here... 

I am happy.

I now have to find good leather boots and Texan hats for everyone, 

Get them groomed for they have to much hair for the weather here,

and we'll be nearly ready for the road. 

Just a few more things to settle ...  And we should be gone by the end of the week.

And my cat ?

Well, my cat is already practicing his skills with wild western cows.... 

With dreams, and pillows...

See ya !

Where is the train ? (I have found the beef)

It s the funny thing when you take trip to a country several years apart... You remember some things very well, because you heard them the last time you were there, and they are still vivid  to you.

But time has passed and most people have forgotten what you still remember so well...

A long time ago ( I was a student then, so we are speaking past century - dear God, yes I am THAT old ! ) everybody was yelling at any time, and  for anything :

"Where is the beef?"

In my classes, in the restaurants, during the parties... Every where !

One of my teachers even wrote that sentence on top of my first management class paper... And it got me into a deep state of despair for I had NO idea how I was supposed to put "beef" in a paper on the "grapevine theory for better work organization"...

I did not have a TV in my dorm for the first weeks of the semester, 

so I was totally lost win this "where is the beef" thing !

Till I finally got a chance to see on tv that add for ... Actually I am not sure... Burger King ?

With the charming old lady yelling 

"where is the beef" with a loud enthusiasm, and about 500 hundreds times a day during all tv shows.

SInce then, it s an expression I often use ... let's say "internally". 

Meaning by that I often scream inside myself "where is the beef" 

when I mutter about an empty politican speech

Or when I look for meaning in an unbearable tv show

Or simply when I look for something

(And yes my son when he was a baby probably assumed "beef" was a magical word used for about anything on earth, for when I m looking for something, my glasses, a lost key, my bag, I always start with a "where is the .." 

happily ending in 

"beef" 

For most of the time, it just makes me happy to shout that for nothing.

Sooooo, back to my trip today -

Yesterday, Saturday, was St Patrick day for parade and party, and I decided to go to "cowtown" to take part in the festivities.

Cowtown being, for all innocent beings outside the cattle world or outside Texas, the town of Fort Worth where most of the cows (and before the 60's, horses and mules) are sold in the Us.

So I took my proud Chevrolet (I love my car by the way. You American have a car industry that is simply "reborn" from its ashes and you are making great cars again, I wish the French industry could do the same miracle soon)

And headed to proud Fort Worth

(who really does NOT want to be mistaken with a Dallas suburbs, thanks to their pride and strong identity, and deserve to be visited for its a different place and atmosphere from Dallas really)

And I can tell you the truth : in Fort Worth,  they say "where the West begins"

Well, that s really how I feel about it.

Cowtown is a great place to get your first smells and sounds of the west, meet nice people, and see incredible horses, mules and cows...

And here I took, for the first time of my life, a ride on a bull !!

Ok, I was wet as a fish, the weather was just as rainy as Ireland (a sure tribute of Texas to its Irish roots) , this explains the crumbling hair and sticky shirt - but triumph was there as you can see. (For me) (the bull seemed slightly less impressed by the situation)

I have been a bit disappointed by the strange look and the furious NO MA'AM answer of the bull's owner  when I asked very politely If I could go to the front of the bull and "pet his face" ( probably not the best choice of words, by the way, and I certainly need to improve my cowgirl vocabulary) 

and if you can enlighten me about the long horn handling, I would love that, for being on that fierce and strong beast was really a gorgeous feeling ... I felt just as "queen of the world" as the time in Mongolia , when I rode a Bactrian camel (I swear it s true - check this to see a brief movie of my trip there https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gkhbUwUzrdc). 

And I d love to learn more about this incredible animal.

So I DID FiND THE BEEF FOR SURE...

And then comes my train story...

At the end of the day, I decided to come back to downtown Dallas under an impressive and very "thunder and lightning" rain, around 6pm,

And, as I was about to leave "cowtown", I got arrested by loud bells and flashing red lights , and even closed fences, in front of a railway.

Obviously a train was coming.

And as the obedient (and very afraid of US police ) citizen that I am, I of course stopped, and decided to wait for the train that was announced loudly.

Wait

Wait

Wait

(You can take more than a minute between each wait, and you will still be under the real time this wait lasted)

And to my obedient (and very afraid of US police) citizen's horror, I started to see the cars behind me actually TRESPASSING the fences and the flashing light, going left where there is no fences, and crossing the railways despite the warnings...

Trespassing in the US ! I was shocked ! 

And as the obedient (and very afraid of Us police) citizen that I am, I decided of course to wait for the train and , THEN, cross

To wait for the train, and THEN cross

To wait for the train, and THEN cross

And you can insert about ten minute between each sentence, and you will still be faster than that train... that never came.

Never.

I cheated.

And I took the forbidden left way too, rushing through the railway with sweat in my back and red on my cheeks,

I never saw that train, though I spent about 20 minutes waiting in front of that flashing and yelling fence.

is here is my question, you figured it.

I ve got the beef...

But,

WHERE IS THE TRAIN ?!?

A concert in Dallas !

Here I am, little French girl arriving in Dallas (ok, anyone having met me is laughing right now, for I am a good 6 feet, which is not exactly the little poor thing average size)

And, bang, on my first day here, who do I spot on a huge billboard near my hotel ?

Dear old Elton John !

Another European, an alien ... And an old friend of mine.

Hum... no , he actually does not know he is an old friend of mine,

You know, that's the funny thing with artists you love : you know them so well, they are so familiar, you feel as if they were friends. You share souvenirs with them, you have seen them fall in love , have kids, get into nasty divorce, get old. And they were there with their songs when you got married, got kids, got divorced too... So you have the impression you are part of their family.

But the truth is you are only one of the hundred thousands human being to know them "so well". 

And you are just a stranger for them, of course. 

So Elton does not know me, true... But he is an old friend still, and an important singer for me.

And it s like a perfect circle in my life tonight, for I actually learned my first words of English with Elton, when I was about 12 years old. I went for a few days in England then and fell in love with his first "greatest hit album" (what a career by the way ! This was in 1976 !). It s probably the first "pop rock" album I bought with my pocket money 

and soon I knew entirely all the songs - but mainly phonetically ! 

I remember being able to sing the whole "sorry seems to be the hardest word" song, word by word,  sound by soundnot having a clue of what it meant - I just mimicked the language

And I have spent my whole following school year learning English eagerly ... just to be able to understand his texts and what I loved to sing along.

So I owe Elton a large part of my love for the English language and ... We'll a good part of that trip too, actually.

And here, nearly thirty years later, in the beautiful American Airways Center in Dallas,

Just on my arrival for this American trip,

He s here

Good old faithful friend,

And I am to hear him "en chair et en os" (literally in flesh and bones)

 Is nt life the most surprising and mysterious thing !?!

How do you turn off the car alarm ? (the mocking bird is still laughing)

You Texans have the most curious and strange birds. I swear... I have travelled a large part of this world, from Mongolia to Yemen and from Greece to Indonesia. I have never encountered a bird like your mocking (well named) bird.

Let me tell you my encounter with your strange bird - and please don't laugh, as we say in French "being ridiculous never killed anyone !"...

Last saturday, I got the keys of the car I am renting here, waiting for my truck and trailer to be available for my trip. By the way, you DO have huge cars here in Texas. If you plan a trip to France for your next holidays, and plan to drive there, I can assure you will have the strangest feeling getting into what in France we call a "large car", which will be about half the size of the small SV I got here.

As soon as I got my keys, I rushed to the car and hit the road immediatly to get to the nearest... walmart . Yes, disappointing, I know. You would expect a French artist to rush to the nearest Museum or Art gallery, in a desperate need of paintings and beauty. But the fact is I was more feeling the desperate need for food - including the "French Onion Dip" I just love and, let me be clear about this, just DOES NOT exist in France- and drinks.

So I get on the road, marvel at both Texan highways size and Google Maps accuracy (can you imagine that 30 years ago, as s student in California, when I went on shopping trips like this, it was... just hoping not to get lost and be able to come back safely . A trip to find a Walmart could end up like a two days camping trip unplanned ... Now I just cannot get lost anymore, thanks for internet and smartphones... my life is so easier !) and end up, on a sunny morning , on the huge parking lot of a Walmart near Central Dallas.

I get out of my car, handle the remote, press the button
and
yup yup yup
strange noise

ALARM !

God, I forgot to ask the Budget desk. Is there an alarm ? how do you set it on ? off ?

I nervously press all the buttons, get a honk, a light flash, a beeepp...

yup yup yup
the alarm keeps yupping to my total despair

I spot a small bird watching me intently and I wonder for a minute if he s paid by the Walmart security service for he is looking at me really intensely. I feel totally guilty , handle my remote nervously, don t dare to watch people around and keep an eye on the long tailed gray bird who is still spying on me.

and then I realize the most strange thing :

It s not my car alarm,

The Yup Yup Yup sound comes from the bird.

Is it an electronic bird ?! 

then suddenly light flows in my poor, French, jet lagged brain... 

Mocking Bird ! Texas Symbol ! 

able to  mimic about anything . 

Crazy !!! this bird actually has learned to make the noise of a car alarm while living on the Walmart lot !
(hope at least he had learned the Ferrrari's alarm to impress his girl friends...)

So here I was , in this parking lot, with my remote in my hand and the sudden laugh I always feel bursting  when confronted with the proof of animal cleverness.

For I swear, this bird was not only "imitating".
He was definitely making a joke on me, and checking on the effect he was having on me.

And this clever bird has obviously been very satisfied with my sudden burst of panic for not only he stood there during a good minute watching me, but when he realized I had figured out his trick, he left on a long and strident laugh that was a real compliment to the first guy who named this bird "a mocking bird".

I just LOVE birds,
and as the proud and persecuted companion (I dare not say owner) of a Grey African Parrot,
I know how clever and funny birds can be.

The French have a ridiculous expression : "bird brain", for somebody dumb and superficial.

It s the most ill found and untrue expression I know. Birds can be clever and fun, and my first encounter with a mocking bird here in Texas is certainly one I will never forget ...

But, tell me, I have suddenly a doubt.

Did my mocking bird imitate electronic sounds ?
Or did the electronic industry spy on the hundreds of sounds your mockings birds do and steal a few ?
After all many sounds have probably been invented by ... Texas instruments ? ???

I will pursue a thorough study of this topic in the following weeks, and keep you informed of my progress on this essential question :

Who, from the mocking bird noise or the electronic sound, came first ?

The "Manso and Co" project

Ok, I will tell you the whole truth... This Artistic Tour is not just a "fun" travel. I have a hidden agenda, yes, I do conceal a secret project. And i' s about time the world learns about it
(oh, how pompous I am this morning... Must be the 19th floor view from my hotel over Dallas that give me this Hollywood movie trailer tone)

I am preparing a special place named Manso and Co

The first A and A- B and B of this country .

Heck, will you answer me (yes, I can hear you, this is the NSA country, remember ?), what is an A and A (I assume you all know the second part , the B and B thing..)

A and A means Animalistic and Artistic.

I am going to create an Animalistic and Artistic Bed and Breakfast in New Mexico soon.

Gosh, will you tell me, what is New Mexico exactly (no , just kidding... But the fact is even here in Texas I met people who did not know it was part of the US. And I don t even speak here of my French compatriots who are all thinking I am going to wear a large sombrero and drink tequila all day sitting on the back of a burro... Yeah, we are pretty good at stereotypes in France)

Gosh, will you tell me, once you will have realized New Mexico is home to Santa Fe, the notorious city of art , artists, artistic tourism and chile...

...What is an Animalistic and Artistic B and B exactly ?

Hello USA !

Here i am. In the USA. Like an eagle I am perched on the 22d follow of a big tower overviewing Dallas, feeling free and watching life underneath me. I am soooo happy to be there. 

The flight was long - ten hours from Paris - and the week before it even longer (international movers taking all my books boxes, house selling , last suitcases packing) . But everything went fine and my adventure is starting now.

During theses ten long hours,and as unfortunately Amertican Airlines had decided to punish all passenger with a Thor movie (did really serious people gather in a meeting room, read this script , see theses co stipules, and decided to give millions for this ? This is a total mystery for me. But I can tell you I had a few good laug when I raised my head and saw the poor comedians playing in ghastly designed costume. The studio restaurant must be something to see during the shooting of a movie like this one...)

I took time to draw and try my all new letraset pens. I did not have much space and I also draw in mid darkness, so I would not wake up my neighbor, but here is my first painting ever done 11 km over earth...

It s fun to have tools now that allow to work everywhere and in all conditions.

Did you know that the impressionist revolution (painting nature outside) is in fact due to a major invention : oil painting in lead tubes, allowing for the first time artists to work directly outside ! 

Sooo, back to preparation for my RV trip. it s 6 in the morning in Dallas, and I hear the city slowly waking up (yes, thanks to the time difference I am awake since 4 in the morning.. It will get better in a few days :-). I have many things to do today, and probably won't have much time to draw or write during the day... But I will definitely try to few Dallas in watercolor. I like the idea of the string, metallic architecture colliding with this soft , aerial paint. No idea what it will look like. Stay tuned to discover it soon !