Susan Lawton Graphics

2009-03-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

Happy Spring! This photo of my daughter Amanda was taken by Hope Harris in 1990. At the end of a long photoshoot, Amanda was the one who thought about holding the blue egg. We've all loved this photo for a very long time and I wanted to share it in celebration of all of our new beginnings. www.hopeimages.com

Himalayan Roadrunners

2009-03-20T17:30:00.000-07:00

This is my nephew, Rob Callander. He owns and operates Himalayan Roadrunners Motorcycle Adventure Tours...."dedicated to providing you with the spiritual motorcycle adventure of a lifetime, from the World's Highest Motorable Passes of Ladakh India and Nepal to Tibet, to the Tidal Estuaries of Cambodia's Southern Coast, the amazing mountain back roads of Northern Thailand along the Lao and Burmese Borders, and into the mystical mountains of the Kingdom of Bhutan.

He just returned from a Thailand where he lead a tour with his son Jack Dorje Sherpa. We're in the process of redesigning his website www.ridehigh.com . What do you think about the new layout? (Links not yet linked. A work in progress ...09ridehighproof

Helen Chaney - Mothers, Lost & Found

2009-03-20T11:16:00.000-07:00

On Maui, in 1983, I met Helen Chaney who became my spiritual mother. A writer, actress, muse, and wisdom walker, her presence in my life enlightened me as she shined her light upon me. She became friends with my birth mother, Edith. Having them together, mothers of the earth, and sky, I felt complete. They crossed over within a year of each other. (1989 & 1990) Losing mothers is a bitch. I found this the other day amidst our vast correspondence. Someday, I'll transcribe it all, and learn more about my lovely Helen. This photo was taken when she played on stage in San Francisco in a production of "The Cocktail Party" by T.S. Eliot. Mid-1950s.

I have a little watercolor that she did of a Mojave Indian woman holding out beads for sale. She painted it while she was living in the desert and working on her book. The adventure funded by Sinclair Lewis. I have a photo of them together. She would never tell me the name of the book, or the name she published under.

From Helen...
April 5, 1986
Dearest Medicine Daughter,

Edith is in better spirits than I have ever known her to be. I have been visiting her everyday until yesterday when she got a cold. Today it is better and she in not in bed. I love her and call her Periwinkle, a pet name she enjoys. She is gaining strength and has done laundry, washes her hair, dresses daintily and does needlepoint, crossword puzzles and reads. I have to stay away because I just got over the flu, but I phone her twice a day. When I first called her Periwinkle, she said happily, they used to tell me I looked like Saint Theresa!

April 7, 1986
Edith is fine. She seems to have settled down and has decided that she is going to stay here. When I wondered out loud if she might go back east, she said, “Oh no. It’s too cold.” So dear one, you saved her from a lot of pain by coaxing here her to our beautiful island. She is well now. I called thinking she might be lonely, but there always seems to be somebody coming of going, so don’t worry anymore and take your new life with both arms. I do believe that whatever is right for your life is also right for Amanda. I loved my father more than anybody, but I couldn’t have lived with him. He thrived in his life and was happy whenever I stayed with him it was absolutely wonderful. When he was miserable with my mother, I was miserable all the time.

Safe Passage - For Piet

2009-03-19T19:41:00.001-07:00

Hear the poem.

The Shell Game

2009-03-19T08:52:00.000-07:00

A white Explorer it was. In front of me at the Shell station. Her blonde hair neatly turned under at the ends. Her skin, a lily white. Wearing a good coat.

"Can you help me?" she hobbled a bit towards my car.

I'm always nervous when I'm getting gas. Car and purse exposed for easy take off by someone other than me.

"I don't have my handicapped sticker because this is my daughter's car. Without my handicapped sticker, they won't help me." She held up and spread out her hands as best she could. "What more proof do they need?"

I cranked open her gas cap, slipped her credit card in and quickly removed it. She got the rest going. After filling my own car I returned to her to find she couldn't grasp the hose well enough to get the gas moving through. I filled her up with $10. while we chatted. I touched her hand with my fingertips. "Arthritis?"

"Rheumatoid," she replied. "It started when I was 35. My kids hated me because I couldn't be a soccer mom. My husband would take me out because he was embarrassed to be seen with a crippled wife.

"I hope you got rid of him!"

"You bet! And he pays dearly every month."

I slipped her a Healing Artists directory. "I live in San Jose, but I'll give this to my daughter who lives in town. She'll love it. It's been so nice talking to you. I have one more thing to tell you. I've got a wonderful new boyfriend, and he's 10 years younger. I'm having a great time. There's a good ending to the story."

She waved her bent and milky white hand with great enthusiasm as she pulled away from the pump.

2009-03-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

2009-03-17T18:06:00.001-07:00

I'm embarking on a journey of video and audio creation and production. With lots of good poems from my past, and plenty of photos, there must be something creative to do with all this.