Small Sculpted Beads

by thecraftaholic

My husband and I just finished up a few more beads that I thought I’d share with you.

This is a smaller version of the large bead we’ve got.  It’s the third eye, resting on a cloud.

Click HERE to purchase.

An all seeing eye. And of course…..

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The owl. Of course.

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And that’s that! On another note, I was reading the post of  one of my favorite blogs, and she was talking about something that really got to me: spanking. She is against it, of course.

But what really bothered me is not the story she told. What really bothered me, was reading how many people put her down, justifying their actions of abuse. It truly concerns me that in this day and age, the “information age” we cling to such arcaic beliefs such as hitting and spanking. These things are wrong, and do not teach our children anything. Spanking only makes the parent feel better.

It really concerns me because we pride ourselves in being so educated, so knowledgeable, and yet….we just live in these arcaic and caveman-like ideas.

The sad thing is, most of the people I know, who spank their children, have been in abusive relationships, or are controlling abusers themselves. It’s sad to hear a member of my race, ask me if my husband is really latino, when I tell her he was never once hit, spanked or screamed at. This is what is saddening to me.

I wish that the members of my race would stop clinging to these stupid ideas.

Let me explain something:

Being a latina does not mean that I know how to dance. It does not mean I have good rythymn. It does not mean I like salsa music. It does not mean I spank my child and am big boned and wide hipped.

In fact, I can’t dance for shit, have horrible rythymn, and very tiny hips. But I like old classic salsa from 1980s. My mother in law got me into it.

Being latina….

What is being latina?

I wrote a poem a while back, called “The Sound of Speaking Spanish”, where I described a particular neighborhood in brooklyn, ny. Okay, okay. Sunset park, 5th avenue brooklyn. Picture it:



sound of speaking spanish

sounds like

palm trees and

80 degree winter weather

church bells on sunday, and

old viejas fanning themselves

it sounds like

botanicas and

corner stores

superstitious mothers in law

the sound of speaking spanish

we speak in a sing songie kind of way, like

“Ay bendito, pero que chulo”


sounds like

big hips and fertile women who

love to cook

cute little boys with curly hair

the sound of speaking spanish

reminds me of the

crowded parade my father would take me to as a child, and

sounds like heineken beer and

flags waving


sounds of speaking spanish

sounds like

verduras y bacalao




arepas with strong coffee


la cocina



old bachata music in

El International Restaurante


tight jeans pushing coches


the smell of perfume and colonge, mixed together

while you walk down 5th avenue in brooklyn

the sound of speaking spanish

it sounds

like home



This is the latinism that I see. But what being a latina truly is, is something that is…indescribable. You can’t “try” to be latina, just like you can’t try to be an artist. You are who you are, because that is what you are. I am latina. My parents came here from another country, and taught me to speak spanish first. My grandmother taught me to cook, taught me about my culture, and who I am. My husband taught me that being latina does
NOT mean the stereotypes that go with it.

My hope is that more people learn what it is to truly love, and truly be a parent, for it is not spanking. Or hitting. Or screaming.






PS. –> Help FUND my CAUSE!

The Craftaholic

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