tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197298892012-02-16T20:18:06.035-08:00musings of a crazed artistBetsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.comBlogger81100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-90168857707162225752008-11-25T17:37:00.000-08:002008-11-25T17:41:38.828-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SSyo_UgnmQI/AAAAAAAAABI/QmB-jYNK7R0/s1600-h/DSCN0392.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SSyo_UgnmQI/AAAAAAAAABI/QmB-jYNK7R0/s320/DSCN0392.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272775069534755074" /></a><br />Aaaaahhhh, Santorini Island, Greece<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-9016885770716222575?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-54828533662765415762008-11-25T17:31:00.000-08:002008-11-25T17:36:51.437-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SSynMyGVtuI/AAAAAAAAABA/9vZd_tZp6Y8/s1600-h/DSCN0318.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SSynMyGVtuI/AAAAAAAAABA/9vZd_tZp6Y8/s320/DSCN0318.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272773101792638690" /></a><br />View from the Hotel Attalos- Athens, Greece<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-5482853366276541576?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-57741521654101261002008-11-25T17:26:00.000-08:002008-11-25T17:30:44.791-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SSymJmWFRrI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xpamb8hq7MM/s1600-h/DSCN0372.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SSymJmWFRrI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xpamb8hq7MM/s320/DSCN0372.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272771947586209458" /></a><br />Mykonos Island Morning<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-5774152165410126100?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-24786905458058314642008-11-24T19:32:00.000-08:002008-11-25T06:05:42.473-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SStza986O2I/AAAAAAAAAAo/BmQDNmdHxEg/s1600-h/DSCN0357.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1bXTVRdEld0/SStza986O2I/AAAAAAAAAAo/BmQDNmdHxEg/s320/DSCN0357.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272434695911127906" /></a><br />The Windmills of Mykonos<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-2478690545805831464?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-1160706250279297522006-10-12T19:09:00.000-07:002006-10-12T19:24:15.683-07:00It is a new day!! Fresh like spring! <br /> <br />So, I had been spending endless hours worried about life, as I sit on the threshold of the "change". ooooooh those changes-- questioning if and what the meaning of it all is-- have I reached it---was I ready? Found myself doing crazy (well, more than usual crazy) things-- like crying in the children's section of Wal-mart--and sitting completely still at green lights while drivers all around are honking and yelling at you--you know, stuff like that. Then one morning as a born mary-jane was flying through the air at my alarm clock it all came together. Time stood still - I rattled it, but it was frozen at 4:30 am. And then, seemingly around 6 am it happened. The most wonderful thing a born mary-jane could possibly have accomplished on my behalf... time reversed. As it sits, upon my dresser, softly glowing in the night, ticking, tocking in the opposite direction of all it's intentions, time- reversed. Upon every minute, every second my heart beats with the second hand-- younger. Why, I am even feeling taller !<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-116070625027929752?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-1156386144745016252006-08-23T19:19:00.000-07:002006-08-23T19:22:24.766-07:00Happy Birthday to me....<br />Happy Birthday to me......<br />Happy-Birthday- to meeeeeeeeeeeeee<br />La La Laaaaaaa Laaaaaaaa La Laaaaaaaaaaaa !<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-115638614474501625?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-1145206531295076042006-04-16T09:52:00.000-07:002006-04-16T09:55:31.306-07:00HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE !<br /><br /><br />(rooooooooooovis, where are u?)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-114520653129507604?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19729889.post-1135477889812465032005-12-24T18:07:00.000-08:002005-12-24T18:31:34.490-08:00Christmas Eve 2005<br />Reminds me of a 2000 conversation with a friend working the late night EMS shift. A young boy struggled with life in the hands of my friend. His last breaths were shared with a calming voice saying "all will be ok"<br />It's hard to imagine what happens at the last moments of life, floating in and out and inbetween here and what will be there ...could you imagine... this experience must be frightful, maybe painful. There must be some overwhelming calm that would come over to take away fear, something seen?... would there be cognitive thought of the transition? Memories? The physical struggle of the soul... not body...between this realm and the next. At that final point. Would God be there. Satan. Both? Would there be a flood of emotions, reflections of choices made in life. <br />Death is where we are all the same, nothing to seperate us here except the impressions left on earth.<br /><br />The ship of my affections-<br />Is not afraid of storms,<br />For it has as its sailors-<br />the eyes of my mother.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19729889-113547788981246503?l=betsybohrer.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Betsy Bohrerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15001215055673826285noreply@blogger.com0