WHEN HATE COMES HOME

I was looking through the comments that people have posted on the blogs I have posted so far, and I came across the following comment posted to me just this week. I apologize for the seething hatred and anger that is displayed, but i felt it was important to share this post as it took me completely by surprise. Sometimes you just do not know what kind of negative energy is being flung about out there like a 90MPH baseball pitch to head...a ball with your name on it:

Posted September 16th, 2009
"Creations by the Coyle Clan said...
you both are f-ing dike-bitches who SCREWED your friends who helped you start your first issues. Remember Cheryl and Marc Brown????f-ing ungrateful lesbo's!!!"

Now...I have never screwed anyone in the production of this 8 year-old project. As a matter of fact, I spent every spare hour and every spare penny I had in trying to celebrate our community and local folk with our magazine, Ventura Life (formerly VC Life & Style as well as Ventura Life & Style). Many people have come and gone. All left of their own accord. Doing a magazine is hard and often thankless work. We have many businesses in town that do not get the concept of advertising, or do get it, but simple cannot afford to place an ad. So for a publication that relies on those ad sales...well let's just say this town is a very tough sell. So Amy and I did the very best we could. We never paid ourselves. We always paid anyone associated with the publication. Once in a while, it would take us a couple of months to get a print bill paid...but we always got it done.

Cheryl Brown was our first ad sales rep. She was being paid a commission on sales. She was also offered a percentage ownership of the magazine. After 2 issues, she wanted monies in addition to her commission. We simply did not have it. We were strapped. We were working for free and paying out good money and there was just nothing left. She chose to leave the magazine. She also chose to step out of my life. I know that Marc and Cheryl Brown would not have approved comments said using their names. They are kind and gentle people. The do not let hatred rule their household.

Amy and I love our town. And we love the many people we have met along our journey as Ventura Life Magazine. Many people still have the very first issue, as well as the very last issue and they display them all proudly. We still get many letters and emails asking us to continue the magazine, telling us how much the articles and tributes to passed loved ones meant. We get contacted everyday by people all over the county, as well as people in other states, asking us when the magazine will start up again. Alas. It takes the kind of finances we simply do not have. And our local businesses are struggling so much. So I cannot give them the answer they want.

But the hatred poured out into the simple message I pasted into this post is so out of place amongst the many positive notes and encouraging statements I felt compelled to share it. I have to say, it turned my stomach over and made me feel so very sad that someone out there feels this way about me. About my partner. About what we tried to do. I know that it may be hard to believe, but my magazine was a sweet sacrifice. Many sleepless nights. Money spent that was never gained back. And the hours and hours of back-breaking work, both behind the camera and behind the monitor, while keeping our other business alive to make ends meet and keep the distribution going. But it was also sweet. To find and get to know the gems of our community. To meet people we would never otherwise have met. To learn that the person next to you in the grocery store has an amazing story. Or the old guy on the park bench did amazing things. To recognize the old man in the sea or someone who once married a king. To celebrate life in print is to preserve life for the ages. And we did that. And many people in our town was a part of that. And they should all be proud of their contribution. Because their names will live on forever.

And the events, and fundraisers, and donated ads and photoshoots, art and photography. The parties and the gallery openings. 8 years worth. Totally worth it!

Well. I do not know what more to say about the few lines of hatred shared with me this week. I do know that everyone is special. Even the coyle clan...whoever they may be. And may god bless them and keep them. Perhaps hold them close enough to spread just a touch of love that may some day flower and spread and run that hate right out of their limbs. Peace to you all.

My first pie-in-the-sky-tweet-tweet-in-your-facebook-myspace kind of experience.

Welcome to my first hike on the trail of virtual exploration.

We all read blogs. Sometimes we write them. Sometimes we scratch our head and look over our shoulder to see if we have anyone witness our inability to interact with a dialogue because we are not sure how to use the tools.

But here it is. I took the plunge.

My name is Dina Pielaet. I was born and raised for the first third of my life in new Jersey. My mom and dad moved us all out to California in the 70's and we landed in Simi Valley. I went to Royal High. Graduated in 1977. I have 12 brothers and sisters.

I have a great life partner. Her name is Amy Jones. We settled in Ventura, California. (there is another Ventura...it is in Spain) We own a small, full-service print and web design agency called 451 Media. We also started Ventura Magazine (around 9 years ago), Ventura Life & Style magazine (around 8 years ago), VC life & Style magazine and Ventura Life magazine. That's because we really love our town. Producing those mags was a constant dedication. We never made a dime. We did spent a lot of money on it...though...a true labor-of-love.

My father found out he had cancer around the same time we started Ventura Life & Style magazine.
He fought the disease as best he could. 8 years of many doctors and specialists and their bad advice. 8 years of a lot of toxic chemicals being pumped through his body. 8 years and hundreds of thousands of dollars. He passed away in December. 2008.

My mom misses him every moment of every day. 56 years together. I guess it must feel like losing your legs. At first it hurts a lot. Then it feels like they are still there...but they do not work. Then you look down and see they are gone. "oh yeah...their gone". But, you still feel them. Kind of. You just cannot see them...and they do not hold your body up anymore. She needs to learn how to walk all over again.

I recently found out my mom and dad have really high IQ's. I mean...really high. Mom's IQ is 165. My dad's is (was), believe it or not...204. Now, a lot of people told me the tests only go up to 200. But that is not true. Some tests rate up to 230. Crazy...huh? With a mind like that...I know he has figured out a way to still be with us. I feel him all the time. "A beautiful mind". He had a big heart...and really blue eyes too. He was gruff. But very, very real. Big hank. Always knew what was on his mind.

My mom is a concert Pianist. Up until dad got really really sick, she had 40 piano students. Then she had to give up her practice to take care of him.

My dad died in a hospital bed in my parents living room. It was his island for 91 days. I moved back home for that time and I guess you could say that the living room became my planet for 91 days. I slept, worked and did everything I could for mom and dad. I was his caregiver. I was also his counselor. And his buddy. It was a very precious time for me.

We had some beautiful people associated with the Livingston Memorial Visiting Nurses Association guiding us and tending to my father as well. I love those people for that. He adored 2 of them especially well. Teresa his nurse. Alma his attendant. They taught me how to be his caregiver along with my sister, Maria. She is the doctor in the family. She was my lifeline too. She taught me how to be dads right hand. She taught me how to manage his chemistry in way that really gave him quality of life. She helped us all to give dad clarity of thought and comfort of body so he could have more time with his wife and kids. She is a pretty amazing person. My big sister. I only have one big sis. The rest are younger than me. All my sisters, and brothers, were there. Everyday. Even now. Coming and going and making the air around them vibrate with happiness. Life. God. Love.

Amy, my partner was my counselor during all of this. And she was totally supportive of my choices. Even though I know she was lonely and really missed me a lot. I missed her a lot too. It was hard...but "bittersweet". Hard to explain. I will try in a later blog.

I am a photographer. I took pictures of the whole experience. I also kept a diary. very soon, I will post some links to some very sepcial photo galleries. I will also post my diary. I call it "91 days".

I guess it seems weird to spend so much time on this subject matter instead of the "all-about-me" stuff people who create their own blogs usually write...but this has been what has changed my life recently. Has changed me forever.

My dad lay on his island, and looked over my shoulder as I produced the last "Ventura Life" magazine. At the time, I did not know it was the last issue. Only my underwriter (yes- we had someone help underwrite the magazine this past year because we simply ran out of money) knew it was the last one. But our financial partner did not tell amy and I until after we produced, printed and distributed 18,000 magazines. Amy and I will do whatever it takes to dig out. We always find a way.

She left a note on our door that said she was pulling out because we were not profitable enoough for her investment. We were very sad. She left the note on our door right around my 50th birthday. In february. The ultimate gift? Maybe. I cried. So did amy. Not so much because of the note... but because of the timing. I felt the loss all the more because...well...my dad just died. But I always say "timing has no conscience". Well...time does heal wounds...right?

People keep calling me and emailing me and asking me "why?". You see...she really wanted to give her money to concert events (like the Ventura Music Festival) and playhouses (like the Rubicon) instead. She also gives lots of money to politicians. Not Obama, though. She does not like him. It seems...archiving life about our ventura, in photo and word, is just not a priority to the people of means in our town right now. Oh well. Politics is politics. Business is business. And it was her money...right?

You can log onto: www.venturalifemag.com to check out past issues, and see some cool photo galleries and so forth, to get a feel for what Amy and I have poured our soul into for the past 8 years. You can see what Ann Deal has decided was not worth her "salt"...

But who knows. Never question fate. Maybe my dad reached out across the vapor between here and "THERE" and intervened. Maybe he gave us all a virtual slap in the head. "Move on dina-beans...time for something REALLY special..." He always said I worked too hard. Too many hours...days... weeks... months at a time on that publication. He said that what Amy and I did with that magazine was just never really appreciated enough. He said that from his deathbed.

Maybe....but....I do not think we are done with it. I think we just need to come up with a new plan...one that does not depend upon our local business owners. A plan that moves beyond "small minds in powerful positions"...mamybe we can turn the magazine into a non-profit. A celebration of life, folk, ocean, land, ventura. Perhaps a teaching tool. Never question fate.

So for now my life is filled with my family, my partner and her family, our funky property on the hillside, re-building 451 media and our client base, photography and community of loved ones. I would like to encourage everyone reading this blog to think about the people in YOUR life and how your relationships with your family, friends, partners can be enriched. I would also encourage you to find out if there are people in your world that need your love. People that need your commitment.

As Dickens said "Mankind IS our business". Maybe somene needs your help. Maybe someone needs YOUR shoulder to lean on.

I would also encourage you to find out more about the Livingston Memorial hospice care program before it is perhaps a service you may need to rely on. You will be better empowered to make decisions on behalf of your loved ones when the time comes. They are a wonderful resource. All are welcome in their eyes. A beautiful community of caring professionals during our most intense time of transition. caring for loved ones in the final transition from this life to the next.

So that's it for now. I have a lot more to say. About a lot of stuff...
I have a lot more to show you too. But it will take time. Thanks for sharing my thoughts with your busy day...and please tell me whats on your mind at this very intstant...before it passes and feels like the faintest tingle of a phantom limb. xod