The stars aligned but we forgot coats & cameras ...

Sometimes the transformer -- that would be me -- needs some transformative rejuvenation. Sometimes she needs alone time. But other times she needs to renew the creative energy with laugh-your-ass-off girlfriend time amidst mountains and beer joints.

So a few weeks ago, the stars aligned and I was actually able to sneak away on a quickie trip to West Texas with two of my old, old, old best friends, Deb and Lisa. They're not really all that old. We've just been best friends since the olden days. One of us actually just turned 45, but I'm not saying who.

Why is this blog worthy? Because I am just floored and amazed and blessed to have such creative and amazing friends. Does your average girl has such talented friends? It has nothing to do with me. I'm just fortunate. Anyway, more about that later. This is a tale about weather and mountains and old friends. You know, the usual.

Leaving Fort Stockton, we could see the windstorm/cold front in the distance and realized we forgot heavy coats. But it looked a pretty long way off. There is nothing wrong with this sentence. It's perfectly normal to say "a pretty long way off."

Here's Deb, the creator of a lavender body care line, getting gas in Fort Stockton, looking just a little bit too much like Cousin It. We were experiencing the cold front hitting first-hand. Then we realized we forgot our fancy cameras so my handy iphone filled in.

You know how the stars aligned and these three incredibly busy women were able to get away for a whole weekend? Well that's just part of it. Our other old, old, old, friend Dara actually met us at the White Buffalo Bar at the Gage on our first night there. Lisa had not seen Dara in probably 25 years. It really was just like old times, except the wine was much better!

Remember that I'm kind of obsessed with mountains? Well, this little pointy mountain is called Mitre Peak. There's a tragic Girl Scout camp at the base of it (tragic only because I'm not the Girl Scout type and I went there one year and they made you wash your own dishes. I thought I was on vacation. I mean seriously. And, they wanted me to sing. Please). One day, it would make me so happy if I could see lava oozing out the top of Mitre Peak. Doesn't it just look like that's bound to happen? Someday?

So what do three creative chicks in need of artistic renewal do on a free Saturday with no agenda? Ride around. And take pictures. We spent our entire youth doing it and it's really effective for solving the problems of the world and soaking up the energy of the beautiful West Texas landscape. When we called Dara to see if she wanted to go with us, she said she was perfectly happy in her warm house, out of the nasty cold wind. We understood. She gets to see these mountains every day.

When you're fortunate enough to be a lucky girl from West Texas, this is what you get used to seeing out your front windshield. This view struck me so powerfully. It was like a whack to my head that said: "Do you see this? Do you realize how blessed you are?" I got it. I get it.

But you know, in between beautiful mountains, there's a town here and there. And as you might imagine, if you're on a drive around the countryside, you might happen upon a bar. This one is in Marfa. It's called Padre's and it's located in the old funeral home. I don't know the address but it's on the south side of the railroad tracks, right near downtown. You can find it, real easy.

Here are my creative friends, who are also kinda gorgeous, bellied up to the bar. Really, their bellies weren't even close to the bar because they don't even have bellies. What's significant here is I love the chandeliers: the juxtaposition of the dark, edgy bar-ness, with the luxury of the chandeliers bringing light to the darkness. After gazing upon the cactus painting, I decided I'd better get busy painting because I could so paint that. Lisa cautioned she thought it was painted by somebody famous, as a way of telling me maybe I shouldn't say that out loud. Whatever.

Here's the entry area leading to the restrooms ... old velvet paintings paired with crystal.

I will be impressed with your bathroom if you've got a beautiful chandelier for lighting, and even more if you pair it with old-school floor tile. Love it!

While in Marfa, we decided we'd better go stop in at Mando's and determine whether their food is as good as it was back in the day. We were not even close to being hungry, but it was good enough to entice my gluten-free self to eat a flour tortilla. Pretty decent, and the green sauce was as good as it used to be.

Lisa (who's kind of an amazing photographer of famous people), spied this interesting vignette out the window of Mando's. She told me to take a picture with my iphone because she left her camera in the car and didn't want to go to the trouble of getting it out. Ok ....

Then, on the way back to Alpine, I made Lisa pull over so I could take a picture of this sign at Paisano Baptist Encampment. Such a beautiful scripture, but I like the NIV version better.

I lift my eyes up to the hills -- where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. -- Psalm 121:1-2

I needed rejuvenation, and God's "help" came in the form of some time with my girlfriends, in my own personal heaven. Pay attention: Your help might come from a really sweet snuggle with a wiggly five-year-old. Or, a suggestion from a friend, that's really hard to hear. Help is out there: in the mountains, in the sky, in your friends, in the little things that become big things. We found it in all the energy of the universe, in hellish weather that included wind, hail, rain, and God's promise of a rainbow over Iron Mountain.

It doesn't have to be elaborate, or expensive. Sometimes you need to get away and see things from a different perspective, and that's when you might just get the "help" you need to grow and develop and renew yourself.

I'd like some wine and cheese with my whine, please!

I have stress-induced ADD and here's why. I am stressed. Why am I stressed, you ask. Life is good. I have faith, blah, blah, blah. Well, the main reason I am stressed is because my house is dirty. You think I'm exagerrating. Truthfully, it isn't just messy. It's a filthy pigsty. Unorganized. Cluttered. Bordering on disgusting.


Oh, I'm sure many of you would think it's fine. None of my friends, mind you, but some of the other people who read this blog. Ha! I want to assure you that I am not dabbling with hyperbole again. It is seriously bad and my chi has left the building. Here's a look at my daughter's closet, the other day before I made her clean it. That was the other day. It's right back to this:

I once read it's not good to shame your children, but I think she should be ashamed. Notice I'm only showing your her mess. I'm not about to give you a peek at my own personal nightmare.

So anyway, the reason my house is a pigsty is because I've been busy beautifying the houses of everybody else. Yay! Business in a recession! It's all good. But it's making me crazy. Right now I have a work-at-home day, but I can't concentrate BECAUSE THERE IS TOO MUCH CLUTTER EVERYWHERE AROUND ME. There is no peace & love in this house. So I'll blog. And show you the homes of other, organized, happy people:

I did some touch-ups at this beautiful house in the country. I wanted to go to their house for Christmas dinner, but alas, I was not invited.

I ventured to the Valley to beautify the entry ceiling of this bank. If you ever need a bank, I would suggest Texas Community Banks because they obviously have good taste and an appreciation for beautification.

Right after the bank I got a another job out of town, to antique the cabinets in an enormous kitchen makeover, whole-house remodel. Even though it was two hours away, it's a beautiful drive:



One foggy morning it looked like this.

The silence on a long drive is a good thing.

Before I started the job, the cabinets looked like this:

And then after I did my magic, they looked like this:

But wait! Here's what they look like once they got all dressed up with their "jewelry" on:

Who wouldn't love to have this refrigerator?

Or this super-sweet stove?

Love these pulls.

Wouldn't it be great if my house had its own personal dumping ground like this mud room? I bet if I had these cubbies, my house would not be as messy because I have three kids that would use them. I'm sure of it.

It was a huge job. And it's not finished. Now a sample for crown mold in the kitchen is pending approval. And we wrapped up a black stain on the upstairs cabinetry Monday. I haven't even managed photos of that room yet. And all this reminds me that I need to call the clients and tell them about the sample. So for now, I'm going to go whirl away on another tangent, which sadly does not include cleaning my house!

Patience, honey ... just give it some time and it'll work itself out!

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know two things about me. I am obsessed with transformation. And, while obviously obsessive in nature, I have been obsessing over my next career move for at least two years. Today I'm happy to report there has been a convergence of obsessions and I finally made a move!

You see, I thought I needed something to keep me off the streets between big faux jobs. After agonizing for years ... where should I sell painted furniture and should I revisit my past life of collecting and finding new homes for antique and vintage furniture and decor ... I'm happy to report that the pieces of the puzzle eventually came together this month. Now, without even knowing me, you can all run out and buy furniture with that special Painted Groove pizazz. And as a special bonus, my alter ego, Vintage Pilar, has returned with funky vintage finds. Now, all of my stuff can be found under one roof, at Back Alley Antiques at Artisan's Alley in San Antonio!

Here's how it all came together: I met Frannie Roberts, the precious and very cool manager of Back Alley Antiques, in a decorative painting class, of all places. She told me about her store and I asked whether she was interested in painted pieces. After meeting Frannie, choosing Back Alley was easy, because of Frannie's knack for merchandising and their longevity in the antiques market. Although Back Alley sells the wares of several different vendors, it is all merchandised together beautifully like a real store and very much unlike your average antique mall.

The store is clean, and pretty, and organized. Most antique stores are just dreadful and give even me a headache after a while, because it is exhausting to look at booth after booth of crowded crap. Even when they're done well, I think they miss out on a lot of sales from people who can't imagine how the antiques can fit into their homes.

So, let me show you around the place!



Here's a little child-sized chair I picked up at an auction. It was brown, stained wood, but I knew right away it really wanted to be gold. Now it is happy as Princess Pilar's Naughty Chair.

This is not one of my pieces, but I wish it was. I love it! Look real close and you'll see a super-cute set of Christmas glasses.

I think these are sooooo cute. In my family, they're the perfect size for a Christmas morning mimosa! Ha!

This vignette just makes me happy and shows Frannie's skill at grouping items from many different sellers. Just in this photo, that's my cute little lamp and my antique mirror I spoofed up with some leopard spots. And that iron bed with the vintage linens? They're not mine, but I love it all.

Here's a beautiful old mirror that I had no impulse to improve. It's great just the way it is.

A closeup of my spotty mirror.

I initially loved this little table for its height. It's a little taller than most side tables, which makes it perfect for today's larger scale pieces. Many older side tables are dwarfed beside beds or chairs but this one was perfect. Right underneath, written on a little white piece of tape, is the name "Frances Doyle." I sure wish I knew who Frances Doyle is, or was. My grandmother used to write people's names on tape and put it on knick knacks or pieces of furniture as a way of designating who would get what when she passed on, or who it came from if it was a gift. It still makes me happy to pick up a piece of something she "put my name on" and see her handwriting. So I named this piece "Frances Doyle."

This piece didn't need a thing. I just love, love, loved it. I really wish I had it back, but times are hard and somebody needs it worse than I do. Or at least someone has more money than I do!

Here's Princess Pilar's Naughty Chair after Frannie found a home for it. I think it needs to be on top of something actually, but I'll bring that up later, when I'm not such a newbie.

Goodbye beautiful crystal chandelier I bought on ebay. You were beautiful and I loved you, but you looked like a dwarf in even my tiny dining area. I hope you find a happy new home in a much smaller room.

Hey! There's that half-of-a-table I thought made the perfect console table for an entry or, as Frannie thought, a table between two slipper chairs. Fantastic. The Venetian Gem leather top is yummy.

I have my eye on this chicken lamp. I know there is a better name for this other than "chicken lamp," but I'm from West Texas and I don't know what it is. It is so fabulous. But I'm trying to make some money here, not spend it.

Two small shades adorned with rick-rack and pompon fringe for a small lamp or sconce. They're super-cute on their own.

But check them out beside that blue lamp? I'm telling you, Frannie has an eye for this stuff.

These ladderback chairs with the faux ostrich rungs finally found a home with this charming table. They look so happy here with this table because the scale is right.

To get there, plug in 555 West Bitters Road, San Antonio, into your GPS. For those more familiar with San Antonio, it's on Bitters between West Avenue and Blanco Road.

What I've been doing while I've been present, feeling the presence.

Sometimes, apparently, I find myself in a blogging dry spell, during which time I have nothing to say. It is during these dry spells that I am thinking. Some people, who like to use big words, call it being "in a time of discernment."


While I do like big words, and funny words, and all kinds of words, really, I also might describe my times of discernment as periods of "correction." It's kind of like the stock market correcting itself. With me, I'm discerning whether I need to get off whatever wayward path I have ventured down, and why. When it comes to the Painted Groove career path, the discernment is required to determine the worthiness of whatever I have discerned to be my next step.


Or, as one who get kicks out of mangling the English language, sometimes I just need to "confirn" I'm on the right track. Now that I am emerging from my dry spell, I would like to confirn that I have nothing brilliant or life-altering to say. My developing humility may be bad for blogging.

During my latest time-out from blogging, I have been wrestling with how to organize my life -- again. My painted groove has been in transition. I thought, by this point, that I would be in a serious, smokin' groove, with a whole lot of creative time on my hands. During all this newfound creative time, I'd work like a demon. I'm all about the working. But then, my plans never quite work out the way I imagine they should. Should, should, should.

When my newfound creative time didn't become reality, I spiraled off on a tangent. Does anybody else do that? I'm a big tangent goer, from way back. So I've been whirling about, trying to figure out what went wrong with my plan. Then someone smart smacked me upside the head and told me that if I were to "be present" and practice the discipline of "living in the now." Then, somebody else smart said I needed to "be present" and "feel His presence." I didn't even know what that meant. How does that work with multi-tasking?


So I thought about that for a while, and here's the deal: The new plan is to "be present" for whatever it is that I am doing, for that time. And then when it's time for the next thing, or job, or requirement, or commitment, or insane request, I'm working on moving on to thinking about that.

Sounds simple, doesn't it? Only I just learned this radical concept the other day. How can you spend a lifetime not knowing something so simple? What that one very smart person told me is that "being present" or staying "in the now" is a "spiritual discipline." Did he mean that to be a challenge?


Ever since this very smart person told me about this "spiritual discipline," probably knowing all too well that I'm just the type to rise to the challenge if you tell me it's spiritual and a discipline, I've been thinking differently. If it is time to take care of my kids, I do that, and keep it within those bounds -- until it's time to think about art and painting.

LIFE SHATTERING!!! It's so effective. Break it up. Don't make everyone suffer through you reading bedtime stories while thinking about your next money-making venture. Your heart isn't in it. And EVERYONE WILL NOTICE! I'm not talking to you unless I need to be talking to you ... I'm talking to me.


Ever notice how your husband isn't listening to you while he's watching TV or working on the computer or driving or whatever? Can you imagine how that must feel to a little kid? Ugh. I cannot even imagine. I wonder how it feels to a husband when no one is "present" for him?


So never fear. I'm still working up creative proposals, and placing paint orders, and figuring out how to cover the walls of an entire entryway with the 23rd Psalm. I designed some flower arrangements, painted some furniture, transformed a little tiny powder room, in between and after making a whole bunch of peanut butter sandwiches, some pretty awesome carne guisada,
in between braiding some spectacular braided pigtails and getting everyone to soccer, softball and the informational meeting for the Washington, D.C. trip. Oh, and the emergency room. And, best of all, I can confirn that I am not yet insane.

I painted a painting that I loved enough to let people see. I don't even know who bought it. The title of it was "Control is Overrated."


Mary snapped this pic on the way to school one day. Poor thing. Now I have my daughter noticing clouds and marveling at the wonder of it all.

I got some really kickass shoes. And shaved my legs.

I enjoyed this sunset on my birthday. The air was dry and I was happy to breathe it.

There was a spectacular cloudview in Marathon on Sept. 28th.

I got to visit some mountains and combat evil all in the same night.

This flower arrangement really dresses up this nurses' station at Nesbit LRC. I still want to be a florist when I grow up. But before that, maybe I can get a job at Green Gate in the spring.
It's a garden center.

I saw this pillow while shopping at TJ Maxx/Homegoods. I have officially seen it all. You really want one, don't you?

So this is what I've learned and what I've been doing and what I've seen. In all my craziness. I am blessed.