October, 2016:


Hubble shows visions of our amazing universe

Hubble shows visions of our amazing universe

What is reality? Does the view from the  Hubble telescope define the reality of our universe? It looks quite unfathomable to me. On the subject of the mystical, did a psychic predict I’d write my book, MELAYNIE’S MASQUERADE? And then there’s Bob Dylan, recent winner of the Nobel Prize in literature. He doesn’t know where his ideas for his popular folk songs came from. He was quoted as saying they were “almost magically written.”
I believe the creative process is a mystical/magical one. Many times I wonder where the ideas come from, both for myself and other writers. Common advice for writers: Write about what you know. But you don’t always know what you know until you sit in front of a computer or a pad of paper. Or take a walk, go for a swim or perhaps even clean your home.

I’ve noticed that when I’m the process of editing books, I’m open to connections/coincidences/synchronicity, call it what you want. I was editing a book, The Religion of Money—a light-hearted history of economics by Frederick—and was reading over the story of the De Medici family of Florence, Italy. The book mentioned Giovanni De Medici, and not two seconds later my favorite classical music station was announcing the opera “Don Giovanni” was scheduled in L.A.

I could be watching TV in the background and have a magazine I’m browsing. I’ll read about a certain subject and have it verbalized in some manner on a TV show immediately after, or vice versa. My daughter and I are very close and keep in touch by phone and Email. I might be thinking about her and the phone rings. From what I’ve heard, that’s quite ordinary for many of us. We have had several occasions when we meet on a Saturday that we are wearing the same color shirt.

My mother passed on 42 years ago. That morning I was reading a biography of Thomas Jefferson (coincidentally an alum of my college: William & Mary), and had just read about the death of Jefferson’s wife Martha, Sally Hemings older half-sister. I was absorbing that sad history when my dad called to say my mother had died during a kidney dialysis treatment. I’ve always felt the reading helped me deal with her death just a little better. Jefferson, my mother and I are all Virginia natives.

Books dealing with metaphysical subjects are a definite attraction for me, and I’m lucky to have edited several of them. High Holy Adventure by R. Alan Fuller is a true story about his mystical experiences with shamans, spirits and mediums, especially in the Andes. Euphoria Zone by Alan Lee Breslow weaves innovative healing techniques into his spiritual adventure. Patt Sendejas wrote Letting Go to Create a Magical Life, which discusses life’s synchronicities and invisible messages. Working with all three authors was enlightening and exciting.

In the mid ’80s I had a psychic reading with a woman named Terry, who was supposed to be quite knowledgeable in her field. I wanted to know if I was going to write a book. I figured it might be a story about my divorce, which had recently happened. Terry said her spiritual “guides” had told her I would write something about voyages. She didn’t know what that meant, she told me; perhaps it had to do with my “voyage” through life.

I forgot about the reading until the late ’90s when I was finishing up my novel. It was, indeed, about a voyage. My heroine, Melaynie, masquerading as a captain’s boy, was sailing with Drake to the Caribbean in the 16th century!

And then there’s Karen, my intuitively psychic friend with lots of talents. But that’s another story.


My daughter, Heidi, tapped into her hidden art talents just a few years ago. I’ve been continually amazed at the variety of styles and subject matter she’s produced; each of her artworks are imaginative and colorful. She keeps producing and I’m sharing a few. I love them all and want more of them on my walls…I must admit, I’m prejudiced! I’ve got five paintings so far and joked that I now have the Heidi Giraud Art Gallery Annex. The watercolor below was her most recent creation. It’s a new challenge for her — working with acrylic is much easier. I love this one – it has such a delicate touch and the colors are magnificent.

Pensive Woman, a watercolor

PENSIVE WOMAN, a watercolor

Wanting to spread the word about her talents, I asked her to write something about herself and she did: “The past few years I’ve felt that I needed/wanted to do something creative. I don’t recall having a desire to paint when I was a child, but believe it must have been there in my soul. When I was kicked out of high school, I was sent to continuation high school. I decided to take an art class and the first painting I did was a watercolor, all freehand, no tracing. I fell in love with it, but wasn’t settled enough in my life to do more than one more watercolor.”

  1. blu-2                                                                               BLU
    “My artistic yearnings inspired me to use a lot of color when I decorated various apartments of mine over the years. Then I took another art class for a few months, and that planted the seed that grew into a satisfying habit of painting. I have always been attracted to the shapes you can create, not to mention the colors you can use in abstract. My favorite colors are bright blues, reds, oranges and greens. There are no rules in abstract painting, you can create whatever you want, probably why I enjoy it so much. Abstract painting opens your mind to all sorts of interpretations. I feel it’s a perfect expression of life. Just when you think you know what is is, you look deeper into the painting with your mind and soul and see something totally different. (Note from Victoria: Heidi and I went to the Getty Museum a few years ago to see Jackson Pollock’s “Mural”–painted in 1943 and said to be an iconic abstract painting of the 20th century. It was huge and full of images that both of us imagined: from horses and ducks to faces. I’m delighted we saw it with our own eyes; a photo of this painting does it no justice.)

roaring                                                                           ROARING
Heidi says,” My inspirations can come from anything. I can walk down a street in downtown Los Angeles, or see the sun’s rays flicker upon the Pacific Ocean and get my ideas from that. My emotions also play a part in my creations.”


Art Arrowsmith is a fellow student who attended Wheelus Air Force Base High School in Tripoli, Libya at the same time I did. He was Class of 1957 and I was due to graduate in 1960; we knew each other but weren’t friends. I got to know Art just a few years ago when he began reading my blogs about our time in Libya. An adventurous creative fellow, Art has done some writing, watercolor art and drawing. He’s a multi-talented fellow and a very adventurous one, having lived in countless places over the years. He shared a true story of his from his time living at Wheelus, MOONLIGHT MADNESS,  a while back and I  published it on my blog in August 2014. Check it out. I split it into two parts.

His latest reflections, called OLD AGE THOUGHTS, fit right in with my recent thoughts. All my longtime friends and I are growing older, but what’s the alternative? I am waiting today on my first grandchild’s arrival — Ella Julie Ann Giraud, in Dallas Texas. I’m a bit late in having the grandmother experience, but I know I’m going to cherish it and have some memories like those Art writes about below.


Days dissolve and weeks blur. Months are short lived milestones, while years bump up against one another and disappear before they can be savored, as we travel life’s ever shortening road. Time has essentially become irrelevant. Children have disappeared into adults and rivers are slowly changing their courses. Familiar landscapes, buildings and downtown venues are reshaped, somehow different, populated by strangers with strange customs and costumes. Friends are gone, lost or forgotten and missed. Loneliness is no longer just another word: it’s here.

If one catches an aged soul unawares in the autumn of their life, a long ago memory will be seen drifting through their eyes.

My hands are weaker but my faith is stronger. Reflection on past seasons and places cements certainty that many blessings were bestowed on myself and my family. Some were obvious but most not discovered until much later when their fruit blossomed. Even today I’m still realizing how protected we’ve been.

Camp fires blazing and hot dogs simmering. Checkered tablecloths on picnic tables and barbecues cooking. Children exploring their world wearing personalized helmets, peddling through the park on designer bikes, giggling and laughing, sharing their minor and major discoveries with one another and equally with strangers. We’re camping in these gloriously colorful early crisp autumn days, as the work-a-day world is left ever farther behind and we slowly adapt to and savor the long-looked-forward-to-retirement years. Our family has grown; both daughters and their families are out on their own. Now our grandchildren and great grandchildren are an integral and blessed part of our twilight years.

Art Arrowsmith’s class photo from Wheelus High; a recent watercolor of his, and a detailed drawing he did of a Porsche.

Art A



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