Thanks for visiting. This site will no longer be updated.

Please visit my new site.

You can find new writing, new photos at


Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Snowglobes and Easter Bunnies

I was having a heart-to-heart talk with a special friend recently. She is going through an interesting time in her life where someone is turning her life upside down and making her re-examine everything about herself and what she is doing and how she is living.

In listening to her story, I sensed a similarity with an experience in my own past and told her, "Oh, that's a snowglobe person." (It's a name I made up years ago.)

Sometimes you will meet a person, someone who comes out of the blue, unexpected, unasked for, perhaps even a total stranger, and that person shakes up everything you know or think you know about yourself so that all of a sudden, life around you is filled with flurries. They can be flurries of uncertainty and fear, but if you can stand still for a moment and realize what is going on, then the flurries can be motes of excitement and change, too.

In the midst of the snowstorm, however, life can feel very cold and lonely. Especially when you see inbetween the snowflakes to the path that might lie ahead. And it's a path you didn't really want to take but you knew it was out there, waiting. You can go back inside and warm yourself by the fire and ignore the path, or you can put on your boots and your coat and start down the trail.

I think these snowglobe people do not even know that they are shaking up someone's life. I've had a couple of these people enter my life, as if it were a play. They might be onstage with me for a short time--in once instance just a week--but in that time, the storyline of my play changed course forever.

And just as suddenly as they appeared in my life, they were gone again. When the flurries settled, everything I thought I had I didn't want and what I saw in front of me was new and different. As hard as it was to change my course, in the end I am grateful to these snowglobe people because without them, I wouldn't have the life I have today and realize the gifts they have given me.

I wonder, how many of us are snowglobe people to others, and we don't even realize it.


There is another type of person I have encountered recently. I am not sure if they are a type of snowglobe person, but they might be related.

I call them Chocolate Easter Bunny people.

From the outside, these people look perfectly yummy and wonderful. They are a delight to look at and seem perfectly formed. They are intoxicating and miraculous.

So you are drawn to them by what you see, enticed to take a nibble of their wonderfulness. But when you do, you find them to be completely hollow inside, like those molded chocolate bunnies that have no center.

And you wonder, how could I have been so stupid? How could I not have known there was no substance, that all I saw was colorful foil and pretty packaging?

There is no way to tell, I think.

I have to figure out how to deal with the illusion and move on. To try not to second-guess someone and be apprehensive that I will be left with a hollow shell, a puff of smoke. To take the disappointment and rejection if it happens and make it work for me instead of being resentful.

To turn a Chocolate Easter Bunny into a Snowglobe.

One of these photos borrowed from here.


Anonymous May 28, 2008 at 12:25 PM  

Oh, Tangobaby, how your post resonates with my life right now! I am in the middle of the snowstorm, and it is hard - realy hard-, but... I really hope it's for the better. As for turning an Easter Bunny into a swnowglobe, only you can do it, by drawing all the powerful juices that the Easter Bunny brought with him to boost your own juices.

Anonymous May 28, 2008 at 12:36 PM  

I needed this. Thank you!

studio wellspring May 28, 2008 at 2:24 PM  

and you, sweet tangobaby, are the nesting doll type of person ~ delightful and enchanting no matter how many layers are removed, from start to finish, through & through, always.

tangobaby May 28, 2008 at 3:18 PM  

Dear tassili,

It's so much easier to write about the snowstorm when it is finally behind you, but my thoughts are with you and I know you will use this tempest to explore yourself and use the experience to make your life fuller in all ways.

Right now I just am trying to avoid Easter Bunnies but perhaps someday I will be able to do what you say.

I hope your storm passes soon and things settle and become peaceful again.

Dear Tina,

I'm glad this helped you because I find your writing and life so inspriring. Like many of my posts, they are cathartic for me so when they help someone else, too, it makes it feel even more worthwhile.

Dear Ms. Wellspring,

You have brought back some lovely memories of a cherished doll I used to have. A little painted nesting doll from Russia, and I couldn't wait to open them all to get down to the tinest one inside. All were painted so lovingly with flowers and swirls and flicks of gold. And lovely rosebud lips.

I am so touched by your description. Thank you, sweetheart.

Anonymous May 28, 2008 at 4:24 PM  

Wonderful metaphors, tb, and a beautifully written little essay, right up there with your wonderful piece about sand painting.

The metaphor studio wellspring has created for you is just right.

Alessandra Cave May 28, 2008 at 4:57 PM  

Oh! I will be borrowing these metaphors from you for sure! I'm giggling ~

Anonymous May 28, 2008 at 5:17 PM  

My dear brilliant TB. What wonderful metaphors, indeed. I'm sort of in a total white-out right now, and that can be rather peaceful. If cold.

As for the bunny, focus on the sweetness it brought you, even if it was only for that first bite. Chocolate is chocolate :-)

tangobaby May 28, 2008 at 5:21 PM  

Hi upfromthedeep,

Thank you...and I had forgotten about the sand painting post. I will have to read that one again!

Ms. Wellspring is my sweetie pie and I have a total crush on her.

Hi beautiful Gypsy Girl,

If I made you giggle, then I am super happy about that. I love that you're here for a virtual visit, since we can't share some chai and pie right now.

Johanna, Johanna.

I have not told you that I love you today.

I love you.

When you start your Temple Of Fabulous Johanna wisdom, I am going to be your first disciple. You are so right about the bunny! Now I feel better!

Seriously. You are awesome.

Relyn Lawson May 28, 2008 at 6:29 PM  

Perfect metaphors, Tangobaby. I remember the chocolate Easter bunny feeling exactly. You would be so excited and then... bite in.. nothing but air. GEEZ!!!!!!!

This post was a really great piece of writing. Isn't it funny how a friend can sum up a person in one sentence? Studio Wellspring did that for you. I read her comment and my heart said, "Yes. She got that exactly right."

Sweet dreams, my little nesting doll. xoxo

Red Shoes May 29, 2008 at 8:47 AM  

Ah, TB, you've done it again, your little trick of knowing how to say a thing just right. I've got some snowglobes, and one creature who is, I think, in transition from bunny to snowglobe. Ms. Wellspring is right: you, dear, are a gorgeously handpaunted nesting doll.

tangobaby May 29, 2008 at 10:12 AM  

Dear Relyn,

I think the hardest part about the Easter Bunnies is that when you're little, you always think the next one will not be hollow, right?

Or maybe that was just me. ;-)

I do like Johanna's wisdom on the bunny. I am going to try to keep that in mind for future.

And thank you for the compliment! *blushing*

Dear Red Shoes,

I feel the same way when I read your posts. You are a very philosophical beauty.

I feel smarter when I read your writing, because I learn about plays and books and music I've never heard of. When you read my posts, you get to read about holiday chocolate and desk accessories. Is that a good trade?


Red Shoes May 29, 2008 at 12:09 PM  

TB, you are exaggerating (esp. given your latest post) and even if you weren't, it would certainly be a good trade!

tangobaby May 29, 2008 at 12:58 PM  

I'm not exaggerating! (hands on hips). And I still want my Art Deco tour and history of costume lecture.

Plus, you can play the guitar.

Phyllis Hunt McGowan May 29, 2008 at 2:32 PM  

"or you can put on your boots and your coat and start down the trail."
How true, and how wonderfully you put that.
I think we can all identify with this post.
But I never thought of it like that- as snowglobe and chocolate Easter Bunny people. But you're right. It proves you can't really tell anything about people.
I love the way you spoke about these people in your life as if they were characters in a play.
Everything is brief and people pass in and out of our lives all the time- but what a way to describe that!

Red Shoes May 29, 2008 at 5:13 PM  

"Play" is really a bit of a stretch, darling. But let's make a date for drinking wine and looking at books of old costumes and architecture, and maybe I'll play you a song...

tangobaby May 30, 2008 at 5:06 PM  

Dear Red Shoes,

Okay! When?!


tangobaby May 30, 2008 at 5:09 PM  

Hi TheElementary,

Oops, I skipped you...I'm sorry!

It's funny how I get these little names in my head. Do other people do that? They must.

I'm glad you can relate though, especially since you're such a great storyteller.


paris parfait June 1, 2008 at 7:18 AM  

My dear, dear Tangobaby - you are my soulsister. Thank you for your words of wisdom, support and encouragement amidst the storm. xoxox

tangobaby June 2, 2008 at 7:29 AM  

Of course, my sweet friend.

I miss you.


miss tango June 5, 2008 at 5:49 AM  

I have a descriptive like your easter bunny chocolate, Cheap Brie. Looks all interesting,Euro, arty and clever, but really just bland, bland, bland with no substance at all.

tangobaby June 5, 2008 at 9:54 AM  

Ha ha, Miss Tango! I like that Cheap Brie, too. But let me ask you, does that mean they smell funny?!