Peligro! This Book May Radically Alter Your Life

Peligro means danger! in Spanish. You'll usually see it associated with piso mojado (wet floor) or posted on a greenhouse you shouldn't enter because of recent pesticide application. In this case, I'm issuing the warning Max Lucado should have issued when his "Cure for the Common Life" was published back in January 2006. When I first got my hands on the book last October, I wish someone had shouted "Ay! Peligro! You better watch out reading that book."

At the time, I was at a women's retreat in the beautiful Texas Hill Country, in an old villa at Mo Ranch, with five hours of rest and recharge (nap) time. Looking back, I see now that the title, "Cure for the Common Life," appealed to me because, frankly, I was living a fairly common life. Overall it's a pretty blessed existence, but at the time it was feeling a little common and was beginning to wear me down.

In the book, Lucado takes you through very detailed but simple steps to help you discover your "sweet spots," or the places, subjects and circumstances in your life when you felt your happiest and most successful. I played along and remembered past successes when I felt accomplished and at peace, all of which had a common thread. Then I shut the book and promptly fell into a deep depression.

Now I must caution I'm writing this from Texas and we are known to exagerrate. Hyperbole is my maiden name. It wasn't a deep depression, really, I just felt like crap because the book reminded me of what I was meant to be doing with my life and I wasn't doing it. At the time I had little hope of finding the freedom to live in anything close to a sweet spot. And that's apt to make any one feel just an eentsy bit depressed.

This past weekend, at the second annual women's retreat, the exercises in "Cure for the Common Life" were part of the curriculum. One of the other retreaters refused to play along and my inquiring mind required me to ask her why. Many of you know I recently got up the gumption to take the leap and get back to living in my sweet spot. Lucado's book played a big part in helping me take that plunge. My newfound purpose makes me want everyone to know the happiness I've found. My fellow retreater's response to my question was so revealing: "I did the exercises last spring and it made me depressed and it lasted forever (she's a Texan too) and I'm just not doing it again," she said. I knew exactly what she meant. Of course I also wondered just what she's meant to be doing that she isn't.

I got to thinking about how many people aren't living up to their God-given potential because of fear, family obligations, dream crushers (as my daughter Mary says) or any other reason that keeps us from doing what we're meant to do as part of a fulfilled life. This book is your first step. It's worth the risk of becoming a little bit depressed. I promise it will give you have something to think about, something to pray about, something to dream about other than your current lackluster existence. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

And if you want to order it right away, here's the link to it on amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Cure-Common-Life-Living-Sweet/dp/0849900085/ref=pd_bbs_2/103-0380773-1524657?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1193713012&sr=1-2

How Faith Was Restored

Sometimes the strangest things or people or events come your way, meant all along to restore your faith in yourself or help you find your way back on track. You never notice it at the time. Only later does hindsight help you see what was true all along. That's been happening to me a lot lately.

That's what this china cabinet did for me. I wish I could show you a picture of what it looked like before I started painting it. I wasn't thinking at the time, so I never took a picture of it. When the dream-of-a-client dropped it off at my house/garage/studio, she didn't event tell me how to paint it. I did mention she was a dream-of-a-client, didn't I? She and her interior designer, Annie, just gave me a sample of the drapery fringe and a tour around the client's home. Making my way through the adventurously decorated rooms of her home, I became more excited, knowing this was a girl who likes color and likes to have fun. I had no idea how this piece would turn out. Feeling comfortable with her, since she seemed fun and not a bit uptight, I'm pretty sure I actually told her I would let the piece tell me how it wanted to be painted. Some freaky artist comment like that.

But really, that's what I did. When I hit a roadblock and didn't know what to do, I just sat with it and the inspiration came. And did I mention I painted this thing after 9 p.m., after putting my kids to bed? When I finished this piece, and the client was out-of-body thrilled with it, I really couldn't ignore that I needed to get back on track as a painter. To do otherwise was a waste of my God-given gifts. At the time, I was throwing myself on the sword daily like we all do: raising kids, helping my husband with our mortgage company, largely ignoring what helps restore my soul. This china cabinet was the messenger. I got the message.

Here's a photo of its little brother, the buffet. One day I hope to paint him as well.

I just remembered two other cool things about this furniture. One, the client couldn't dare part with these pieces because they came from her grandmother. I have a feeling Grandma is smiling at the crazy way her furniture has found new life. And the other thing: Check out the fabulous collection of wine glasses in the china cabinet. My client has two sisters and whenever one of them sees a cool wine glass, they buy three, keep one and give the other two to their sisters. They call them Sister Glasses. I think that's a tradition we all should take up as our own.

Won't You Join Me on My Painted Groove?

This being the debut blog for My Painted Groove, I’m experiencing terrible blog anxiety. It’s one thing to declare you’re going to have a blog. It’s another to actually put it on the web and let anyone see it, as if anyone cares what you have to say anyway. Acknowledging the problem is always the first step, so here we go: I’m scared out of my mind and feel like I’m walking through a salon with my skirt caught in my thong (which actually did just happen to me but that’s a story for another day).

At this point you may be wondering: What the hell is a Painted Groove? Well, it’s a blog about the major theme that drives me – beautification, transformation, renewal, and the crazy episodes that happen along the way. In my world, for some reason, all these things are accomplished with paint. Whoever invented paint must have been a whole lot like me. Paint really is the most handy thing I can think of and it solves soooo many problems. Doesn't everything look better with a fresh coat of paint?

Take dirt and ugliness for example. Paint can cover over dirt and make anything appear fresh and clean. (Sensing any psychological themes here?) It’s like fabric softener for stinky old gym shorts. Confronted with a nasty window sill? Just paint it and you’ll see what I mean. Is the kitchen in your new fixer-upper just too dirty for words? A good bottle of degreaser and a few gallons of paint is sure to change your mood in no time. The other thing that makes paint so damn fabulous is you can change it. Whenever you want. No commitment really. You get sick of Sherwin Williams Lime Rickey? Try SW Verdant instead. It's my new favorite, shocking green color and I'll show you a picture of something I painted with it in my next few posts.

Somehow I've figured out a way to make a living using my obsession with paint and my passion for transformation. I'm really the luckiest girl in the world and I have been incredibly blessed. One of the things that blows my skirt up the most in life is treasure hunting for neglected pieces that need me to transform them and find them a new home. So I plan to share stories about projects I’m working on and pieces I’ve found to fix up and renew. I hope you’ll share stories from your groove as well.

It’s an old Southern expression, but my grandmother always told me: "You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear." In the years since she passed on, I have discovered I can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. I promise to post lots of pictures, assuming that I can figure out how to post them. Here's one for starters. Next time I'll tell you how this terribly interesting piece came to be.

I'm so glad you've joined me on my Painted Groove.