"satisfied to stay simple in a peaceful presence"

The following are excerpts from my years of journaling. Journaling, as well as visual arts, has been a tool for healing that I have utilized for 35 years since the age of 18. This writing is presented as a "train of consciousness" and thus this intro to help you pull it together and make some sense of it hopefully. You are a witness to the importance of Process not Product. Writing/journaling is being proven and now offered in many workshops and clinics on healing the mind and body. Perhaps you too may be called to this healing art form. I have chosen to carry on this Creativity Heals work in conjunction with the National MS Society because my affiliation is strong and of long duration. Once again, as with the "The Race Against MS" (the thoroughbred racing program we co-created in the 1980's), I speak out to offer ways to help by getting involved and by doing something positive. My life has also centered around nature and horses as they too are great healers. This is something I have always known and utilized, and their time to be recognized as partners in healing has come. For me, three key elements to living well are: love, nature and creative expression. I start with Patagonia, as I have lived there part time for the last 16 years. For 10 of those years, I was a happily married woman and first time Mother who went into full remission. Following my divorce in 1997, the stress of being a single mother with MS, losing my husband and lifestyle, rebuilding another life in Colorado, and literally another home in Argentina, has taken a toll on my health and decision-making process. It is once again my art, nature and horses that are leading me to recovery. Thus I share with you glimpses of that journey.


Seventeen years ago I had never even heard of the place. Now it was looming over me with a cloud of anxiety. My precious daughter, Sky, at thirteen is soon to depart for Patagonia in the cordillera of Argentina. Far away from me, unreachable by phone. There is no phone or electricity on the hidden away and vast estancia, no roads, three hours by horse into the Casco.

New Orleans.....

1976, at age twenty seven I lay paralyzed in a hospital in Uptown New Orleans....with two thoroughbred racehorses in training, a mother in a nearby hospital with cancer....an only brother, a quadriplegic, at home making it as best he could. Things for the "Golden Girl" were not looking up.

1959 childhood in Iowa....The enchanting and mysterious mist rises gently off the river as I awaken on the summer porch to the music of bird song. In the distance the horses neigh and I wonder if the deer are playing with them. Sans Souci Island surrounded by the Cedar River, a branch off the mighty Mississippi that flows through and gave New Orleans, the place of my birth, a reason to be. Rivers, the blood of this earth, our first Mother. "A River Runs Through My Heart."

It's my signature now on my art and the letters I scribble. Why? Who cares? I DO. I care about the rivers of the world. I care about The Mother that gives us all so much. The roots of our healing of mind, body, and spirit are in the Earth. "Heal ourselves, Heal the Earth."


8.000 feet high in the aspens, light dancing in the "quaking leaves". Here I sit at a computer trying to share with you a bit of my personal journey. Not because I think I have all the answers. No way. We all take our current best guesses educated by experience, intuition, divine providence, friends, loved ones - whatever has crossed our paths of late. The one thing I have learned, at least for myself, is that I must share and reach out to others. Maybe just a kind smile, a hug, "I understand, I've been there or close to it." Empathy, compassion, words the "Golden Girl" did not live with prior to 1976, and the onset of Multiple Sclerosis.


Never far from my mind and heart. El Rio Trocoman - "Condor huddled against the Wind" - in Mapuche native language. Ginny, in 1988, the new Mother, huddled against and with the winds of change. Deep, lasting change brought about with the visceral contact with the Earth. A newborn nursing at my breast, dependent on ME! No roads, no doctors, no grocery stores, no phone, a short wave radio that sometimes works....Oh, but a new husband I worshipped blindly...An adventure of a lifetime.

Patagonia.....To Return or Not?

I have fear in my being, as in 2001, while on the way to my Estancia Trocoman, once part of Ranquilco, my fever, for the third time in four years since our divorce in 1997, reached to 104 degrees, dropping me in my tracks, parts of me paralyzed and helpless. Buta Mallin, lying on the cold stone floor of the cattle outpost of my now ex-husband's 100,000 acre estancia. With only the kind wife of the capitaz and Sky supporting me. The pigs had gotten into my Avonex (self-injectable interferon for my MS) and I was nearly delirious. How could I go on to my adobe home that I was determined to build after living in the stone, castle-like mansion where we had once dwelled as a family - and I was once "La Patrona", of all the lands you could see for miles? "..... La Patrona in Exile now.

Old Adobe Adobe After

Adobe Home Before

Adobe After

Sky in Argentina

Sky at Estancia Ranquilco


Ginny at 27

Ginny and her first race horse

Ginny and her first race horse

Woods Lake Colorado


A River Runs Through My Heart

A River Runs Through My Heart