RhondaK's Bio as written by Ron Wilson of Florida Secrets...2013

RhondaK   A Florida Secret That Needs Telling...

An imaginative decendant of " Old Florida", artist/poet RhondaK was reared on farmland
in Plant City that her dad ploughed with an ill -tempered horse. With Florida roots reaching
back several generations, her great grandpa was known as Mullet Man and sold smoked
fish door-to-door in Tampa.

She grew up doodling horses on everything, even the weekly bulletin of the Baptist church
that she was raised in. After being told she had no color sense, Rhonda spurrned art lessons,
preferring a non conformist appoach to match her outook on life. During the late 1990's, the
amiable rebel refined her talents and ran events like "Poetry in the Dark' in Tampa while
freelancing for the Tampa Bay Times, Weekly Planet and penning underground classics
like Holy Roadtrip.

Following a serious auto accident, Rhonda walked barefooted out of ER with a song on her
lips and courage in her heart. She then went sleepless for 3 days, determined to solve the
world's problems and was inspired to paint 30 roosters, no two alike. End result: The
childhood hurt of being told she had "no color sense" was forever dispelled.

Quitting her day job, Rhonda went to live on a boat with fellow artist Alan "TikiMan" Keller
and her funky doodles of mermaids, fish and more found an audience. This led to whimsically-
painted signs using found wood sold in the parking lot of Star Fish Restaurant, in the sleepy
fishing village of Cortez.

Relying on a rich imagination for her art and a quirky, irreverent wit for her writing, Rhonda's
clever creations are now sold on both coasts of Florida and as far away as Michigan and
New Jersey. The quintessential non-conformist draws from a rich and colorful past: fishing
with Dad, various abodes along the west coat and a fondness for Florida beach bars.
These experiences spawned numerous off-beat aphorisms like " Life is Fishing, not
Catching" and " Walk a Mile in my Flip Flops and Bring me Back a Beer". Whimsical wisdom
and vibrant art that's not extracted from a book but from her soul and the Florida she loves.

Rhonda works as a librarian at a Florida college helping people work toward their
dreams when not at her current location in Nokomis. Called the Red Hibiscus Art Farm, it
consists of several herb/vegetable garden patches, wild flowers, an outside work shed
beneath some palm trees, two inside galleries, 6 bunnies and one a wonderful dog,
(a pug) all of which end up in her paintings from time to time. 

Written by Ron Wilson
Publisher of Florida Secrets, the Insider's Guide. 2013 

25 Haikus for Thanksgiving

1 : 

Sadie's rolling stone

Found itself a home, poor pug

And all of these rugs.

2:

MaMaK OK

Doctor stitches up her nose,

So she's good to go.

3.

Piss poor is a phrase

That fails to show piss rich

Is a better place.

4.

I need to drive miles

But this so warm bed holds me

Like a dream of love.

5.

Her pug nightmare comes

Toes twitch, legs move, her eyes roll

I shake her back home.

6.

Indolent meatloaf

Stuffed sensuously with cheese

Don't embarrass me.

7.

We did not follow

Any one recipe, no

We used what we had.

8.

It is nipple cold

I miss you sweet nipples

I feel so alive.

9. 

Used ark for sale

Used 40 days 40 nights

Forgot unicorns.

10.

Home remedy books

Weeping at sight of butter

Some food is for soul. 

11.

Great grandpa was big

He always wore Overalls 

I think - commando? 

12.

What is best of show

Pride, proud walk, prouder strut, stare

Bichon shakes hair - wins.

13. 

We just do not know

Beneath fluff exterior

Heart of a lion beats. 

14.

Baby baptism

He peed all over the priest

Heaven loves laughter.

15.

Crunchy roast peanuts

Pour your salt all over me

Come hang out with nuts.

16.

Enjoy the relief

But never ever give up

Groundhog Day it up.

17. 

You know you want it,

Pour some honey on me

Dearly beloved.

18.

Scared of them yes sir

Pornos under white bible

Revelations...yes.

19.

I pledge allegiance

To these thanks add more desire

To be present now.

20. 

The real happy hour,

Cold beer, hot gravy, drink up

Life's better this way. 

21.

There is a fine line 

Crazy or visionary

Tenacious blood sport.

22. 

Get up, get down Girl, 

You gotta get up, get down.

DJ saved my life

Historic Bradenton Beach Bridge Street Markey

Http://www.rhondakwrites.com

Nov 18...this sweet baby kept me company..

Live painting project: Cathy my pet rooster from my childhood

More fish crate paintings...

My February gallery show ...

Excerpt: Short History of Tides...RhondaK "The Faint of Heart"

Buy for $1.99

Excerpt: Short History of Tides...RhondaK "The Faint of Heart"
$1.99 on

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/RhondaKwrites


“You know, I’m always scared to ask if a woman’s pregnant. Once I asked a woman when she was due and she let me know right quick that her lifelong problem with weight was none of my business.” He slipped me some M&Ms.

I slipped him my last smile before I fainted there on his cold, loving floor.

The Faint of Heart

“Girl, you gave me a scare,” the 7-11 clerk said. He was old. He should have been retired, but what passes for industry out here didn’t usually have a pension.

“Let me talk to her Frank,” an elephantine woman shuffled into view . She had long graying hair braided into 4 braids, two of which fed into the parallel rivers down her back.

“Do you feel anything? Pain? Pressure?” she wiped my face with a cold cloth while holding up my woozy back.

“Embarrassed.” I was glad I didn’t pee my pants when I went down.

“OK, doll baby, let’s get you up,” and she had me up before I could protest. I wasn’t sure if I shouldn’t have stayed still longer, but I knew I didn’t want to risk an ambulance coming.

“Should I call someone for you – an ambulance, a doctor?”

“No, I’m fine. Just fine. Just needed some water,” I was backing towards the door, regretting I had to leave the air. The cold false world of refrigeration and Icees.

I’d never fainted before. Never relied on the kindness of strangers and the sort of sick I felt was closer to my heart. A fear of reliance on others. It was a nausea. A soul nausea of realizing how helpless and clumsy I was. How the outside saw me as this pitiful, baby carrying creature. Frail. I couldn’t believe this was who I was in my heart. I couldn’t.


“Look, baby, let me give you a ride. It looks like you walked up here.”

“I did, but – I’m OK.” I had just walked 82 miles and had slept on the Flagler Beach Pier pretending to be with a fishing family.

“No, I’m not paying one bit of attention to you, sweetheart. You’re not in your right mind. My name is Louise, people call me Weezie. OK? I’m everyone’s Aunt around here. I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m new.” I said feeling a sort of old. I’d never been away from home before but for church trips to parks and once to Orlando. The sun outside was in its unrelenting zenith where you’d think you could tune it in on a radio to hear it frying.

Weezie’s car was old person hot with old person smell. The cracked seats scratched the back of my legs and I couldn’t figure out how she thought she was helping me. Further, how could I tell her to drop me off in what still accounted for virtually no where? Just a straight A1A by a groaning, writhing sea.

“OK, girl, spill it.”

“What?”

“Look, you’re sunburned. You’re in good clothes, but they need to be washed. You’re tired. You’re not meeting anyone’s eye even when you’re obviously in dire need of help.”

I didn’t feel Weezie. That is, I didn’t feel her bulk, her old beat-up car, the sound of her voice – none of this made me want to drop the truth like change in a buskers hat. I don’t think fat people kind. They’re just people. Nor are t hey any more lazy. It was the sense of her. The way she seemed to take me over more like a kidnapping than an angel. The way she snapped my seatbelt closed and locked my door. I could have run, but I feared the police might be called to help the poor, out of her mind pregnant girl.

“You’re right. There’s a story, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

She drew on a cigarette, blew the smoke into my face and smiled.

“Tough are you?”

She pulled out of the parking lot back on to A1A heading North. My heart’s way.

“So, what happened? Who knocked you up or do you know? You girls these days have no idea how much all of that is worth.”

I thought she meant my virginity, but it ends up she’s telling me how women these days are making money not precisely selling their babies as much as fraud.

“Babies– now that’s easy money. Pretty thing like you could start a bidding war between two couples and…”

“Ms. Louise…Weezie, I’m not interested in money.”

“You’re one dumb slut – you know that?” She says it lazy like she might remark on the color of the sunrise or a lost shoe hanging on a telephone wire.

...

Bayfest is Saturday and

I am crazy busy painting up.

Meantime I restocked Restless Native in Holmes Beach. 

The copyright for Walk a Mile in my Flip flops and...RHONDAK Native Florida folk artist